


A Drop in the Ocean

by SunriseRose1023



Series: OTH: The Next Generation [2]
Category: One Tree Hill
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Depression, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Past Drug Use, Rehabilitation, Suicide Attempt, Teen Pregnancy, Teen Romance, Teenagers, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:15:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 113,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3716518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunriseRose1023/pseuds/SunriseRose1023
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Lydia leaves Tree Hill, the people who love her, the ones she left behind, have to learn how to cope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Angel Flying Too Close To The Ground

**Author's Note:**

> **Also posted on my FanFiction account, Sunrise_Rose1023.** 
> 
> Thanks for checking out my sequel to "Darkness on the Edge of Town." I really appreciate it! If you haven't read that story yet, PLEASE go check that one out first, so this one will make sense. 
> 
> Reminder: This is an alternate universe, where season 9 of OTH didn't end the way it did. Nathan didn't come home, and Haley couldn't cope. Their children have been raised by Clay and Quinn, and their daughter turned out to be just like her mother. 
> 
> I do have a happy ending planned for this series, guys, BUT it's going to take a while before we can get there. Please hang in with me and let me know your thoughts!
> 
> The first couple of chapters are first-person journal entries from Lydia, Jude, and Sawyer. The journaling will show back up throughout the story. 
> 
> The chapter titles are the songs I listened to while writing the chapters, and some of them are pretty sad, but SPOT ON for the story. Give them a listen, if you want. ;)
> 
> The title of this story is taken from a Ron Pope song. I ADORE the song, and I think it perfectly describes Jude and Lydia. 
> 
> WARNING: This story contains elements of drug use/abuse, mentions of suicide, mental health issues, and death. Proceed with caution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Angel Flying Too Close To the Ground" by Willie Nelson

_**LYDIA** _

My mother killed herself when I was a year old.

Well, that's a hell of a way to start this out. Hmm. Maybe I should start over.

My name is Lydia Scott. I'm sixteen years old. I live in Tree Hill, North Carolina.

Well, I usually do. When I'm not institutionalized, like I am at the moment.

I have an older brother, Jamie, who plays in the NBA. He'll probably never talk to me again, and frankly, I don't blame him. I wouldn't talk to me either, if I had the choice. Maybe that's why I can't talk now.

Anyway. Back to … Introductions or whatever. I was raised by my aunt and uncle, Clay and Quinn. They have two kids, cousins that feel more like siblings to me. Logan's heading to the NFL any day now, and Riley's two years younger than I am.

I have a couple of other aunts and uncles. Uncle Lucas and Aunt Peyton, and Aunt Brooke. Brooke's not actually related to me, but Lucas is my dad's brother, and was my mom's best friend. He and Peyton have Sawyer and Ellie. Sawyer's my age, and my—well, she _used to be_ my best friend. Brooke has Davis and Jude, who are twins, and Meg.

Jude.

God, I miss him. He'll probably still talk to me, because for some ungodly reason, he has it in his mind that he's in love with me. I would pray he'd come to his senses, but I'm pretty selfish. And I doubt anyone would listen to me if I prayed, anyway.

Jude makes me feel better, and I'm sure if I could love anyone, it would be him. I just don't think I'm capable of it. What's all that bullshit they say, "You have to love yourself first?" I don't. I'm a horrible person. I don't understand how anyone can love me at all. Jude's blind to the bad, though, and I guess I'm thankful. If he really knew me, the way I know me, he'd get the hell out as quickly as he could. And I wouldn't blame him, not one bit.

Let's move on to the big issue here, shall we? Doing so brings us back to my opening sentence, about the mother I never got to know.

Haley James Scott swallowed a bunch of pills and took a swan dive into the pool when I was a year old. Her fault.

Three months prior, my dad was shot and killed. Not his fault.

And I, being the spitting image of my dear, sweet mother (something I'd been told all my life) decided to take a page from her book and, long story short, that's how I got these lovely scars on my wrists. My fault.

Naturally, I failed at something else. The biggest "something," but still. And that's how I found myself in this quaint little mental hospital in Columbia, South Carolina. A whole state away from my troubles. Only problem? My troubles are me. And I'm still here.

My fault.

* * *

 

_** SAWYER  ** _

My name is Sawyer Brooke Scott. I am sixteen years old, and I live in Tree Hill, North Carolina. I have two awesome parents and a little sister who drives me crazy. I have the best boyfriend, and really good friends. My life is pretty great.

And my cousin tried to commit suicide a little over a month ago. Which of these things doesn't belong?

I am so mad right now. I am mad at Lydia. Everyone keeps saying that she's sick. She needs help. Well, yeah. I know. I've been knowing that for months, but everyone kept acting like everything was okay. And then we get a phone call that she slit her wrists in the damn bathtub.

I feel bad for being as mad as I am. The therapist, counselor, whoever the hell she is says that being angry is a natural part of this. How sad is it that there's a "natural" way to feel whenever someone does something as unbelievably selfish as this?

I hate to say it, but it's just stupid. This is a stupid thing that Lydia did, and I am not okay with it. I'm pissed the hell off at her.

It's hard. Being back at school. Being in Tree Hill, period. Being with Jude, who just looks so lost and is trying so hard to be strong. Being with Davis, who is taking this really hard.

I don't really understand that. Yeah, we're all friends. Davis and Lydia weren't exactly close. Neither are Jude and me. And that's okay. But to see Davis squeeze his eyes shut every time he passes by her locker, when all I want to do is ram my fist into it? That's hard.

The hardest thing ever is being around my dad. He blames himself. Mom keeps telling him that it's not his fault, he's not to blame, but he does. He stays up so late at night, and I honestly don't even know if he sleeps. He's … He's drinking a lot, and that is so unlike him. I mean, sure. He and Mom drink every now and then. But I've never seen him drunk. Not once in my entire life, and now … It's like every night, he's got a glass of something near him.

I can hear him sometimes, talking to Mama when they think Ellie and I are asleep. Well, Ellie usually is asleep, so it's just me, eavesdropping. I've done it my whole life; they should be used to it by now.

And I did something I've never done before.

I snuck into his office, where he does all his writing. Ellie and I have been given explicit instructions our entire lives that Daddy's office is off-limits. It's not like we'll bust in there and leak his new book online or something. It's just his space. The one place he has all to himself. In a house full of women, you really can't blame him.

Well, I picked the lock on the door yesterday and went to his desk. I don't really know why I did it; I just did. Anyway, I went digging through the desk drawer and I found a letter. A long, handwritten letter from Dad to Uncle Nathan. Lydia's dad. The one that's been dead for almost seventeen years. In the letter, Dad told Uncle Nate about pretty much everything. Ellie and I. Lydia and Jamie. Things that stick out from our childhoods, like when were five. In the same week, I broke my arm, and Lydia ran into Mouth's truck and got a black eye. And the time Jamie got his first speeding ticket and Dad made him mow practically the whole town's yards to make the money to pay it off.

And then it kind of switched. He apologized, like a million times. For not being there to help Aunt Haley. For not taking Jamie and Lydia and raising them himself. For letting this happen to Lydia. And that just made me even angrier.

He didn't "let" anything happen to Lydia. Lydia did this to herself. This is Lydia's fault. She chose to do an incredibly selfish, stupid thing, and the blame is on her, not anyone else. It's not fair. Then again, what is, really? 

* * *

 

**_ JUDE  _ **

I have never been a fan of writing. I'm all right at it, I guess, but I don't do it just for the hell of it. The counselor thought it would be a good idea, though, so Mom bought me this. She thought it was "so cute with Superman on the front," and I didn't have the heart to remind her that I'm nearly seventeen. Just said thank you and went on.

And now, I'm actually using it. God.

How am I supposed to do this? What is proper journaling behavior? Is there like an outline that I should go by? Do I just dive right in? Maybe that would be the best route to take.

Okay. Here goes.

I have been in love with Lydia Scott for as long as I can remember. Seriously. She's beautiful and smart, funny and kind. She is everything I could have ever wanted, and for some reason, she wanted me back. And then she

Okay, no. This isn't going to work. I can't do this. This is stupid! Who decided this is a good form of treatment or coping or whatever? I can't even say it out loud. They think writing it down will help me? No, thanks. I had to live it, and that was more than enough.

Shit. I hate this. I hate everything about this. I hate this past month, and the month before it. I hate basketball and stupid basketball games. I hate bathtubs. I hate hospitals. I hate everything.

Well, not everything. Not Lydia.

God, I miss her.

I miss the way her hair smells. I miss the way she fit just perfectly by my side. I miss the way she made me feel like I was on top of the world whenever I could make her smile. I miss her laugh. I miss those stupid high heels she would always wear because she was so damn short. I miss the way she'd cling to me when I kissed her. I miss the way her soft hands felt against my chest, the way her head would rest right over my heart. I miss holding her while she slept.

How could she have done what she did?

No. No, I … I'm done for today.


	2. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Broken" by Seether and Amy Lee

_**LYDIA** _

So the doctor—can't seem to recall her name right now—decided it would be a good idea for me to write down my feelings.

Gag me.

She probably thinks that because I won't talk. I just don't have anything to say. Of course, though, the shrink must overthink and analyze everything.

So here we are, writing down my feelings in this cute little journal provided by the hospital. It's navy blue. Whatever. I picked this one because it blends in with the mattress in my room and it's easily hidden. When Doctor Who (hey, look, I made a joke) "suggested" the journal thing, I agreed to it. Chose a bright red book, because I figured I'd have to turn it in or whatever so they could read it and make sure I'm not still suicidal. Lucky for me, I'm a damn good actress. I write whatever I think they want to hear in that journal, then write the truth in this one. And I hate to admit it, but it kind of feels good.

Here's what's bothering me (besides the obvious):

I'm stuck in this place with no way out.

I haven't seen or heard from Jude in the nearly two months that I've been here.

I can't talk to tell Clay and Quinn how much I hate them.

That last one seems kind of harsh. (At least, that's what I'd say if I gave a damn.)

But honestly, I am so mad at them. They actually thought it would be a good idea to separate me from the one person I can breathe around? They actually thought the trip would be better if it was just us, in our happy little family?

No. Actually, not just no, but hell no. I guess that's why I lost it.

All of a sudden, I just couldn't. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. I couldn't see. I could hear, hear them telling me that everything would be okay, I'd see him in a few weeks once I was better. And that was … That was too much for me to deal with. I couldn't bear it.

For some reason, this sticks out in my mind: I remember screaming. Sometimes I said words, but most of the time it was just noise.

I ripped the bandages off of my wrists, and let me tell you something. That hurt like a bitch. My hands are feeling better now, but at the time… I don't even want to think about it. That's how bad it hurt. But I got the bandages off, and my wrists were already bleeding by the time I got to the stitches. I was screaming and crying while I pulled the stitches out, and to be completely honest …

I don't know why I did it. It was stupid, and probably the reason the scars are so prominent now. It hurt, and all I was doing was putting myself through unnecessary pain.

Wait, maybe that's why.

It had been going on for months. The pain was a reminder that I was still alive, as much as I hurt and just wanted everything to go away. The pain kept me grounded, and I guess … Maybe I was looking for that? I was hurting already, in my heart, being ripped away from Jude the way that I was, and I guess I needed the physical reminder of it.

Maybe this journal is good for something after all.

Anyway, after I pulled the stitches out—which was no easy task with numb fingers, let me tell you—Jenny stuck a needle in my arm and pumped me full of some kind of something. I don't remember what it was, and I doubt she even told me, but the weird thing is …

I don't remember what happened after that. It's like my mind is just blank. I can't remember getting out of the car or checking in. Walking to my room, unpacking, saying goodbye… I don't remember any of it. I don't remember anything up until last week, when I figured out that puzzle on Wheel of Fortune in the den-area thing down the hall.

It kind of bothers me, the way my mind is just a total blank. I've been drunk before. God knows I've been high. But it's never gotten to the point of me blacking out. That's what my memories are, though. Just blacked out. Kind of makes me wonder … What happened?

And that raises another question:

Do I really care? 

* * *

 

_ **JUDE** _

You know what intrigues me? Routines. The way everyone has one, whether they want to or not. Even in trying not to have one, you still have one. They can get thrown way the hell off course, and sooner or later, you get back on track.

Our routine was jacked up for a while. Once that Saturday afternoon occurred, it felt like the whole world got flipped around. We didn't go to school. I didn't do my daily routine of getting up, showering, and going to school or work, depending on the day. In the afternoons, we didn't do homework or take Meg to whatever activity she had on schedule. And she does a lot. Who knew eleven-year-olds had such busy schedules?

Anyway, that week Lydia was in the hospital, I was there with her. Every spare second I could be, I was there. Spent the night with her a couple of nights. I didn't go to school, and neither did Davis and Meg. Sawyer, either. I didn't really care about school. Or work. Or anything other than Lydia.

Then she was gone. I was left in the parking lot, watching as they drove away with her. That was the hardest thing I've ever had to go through.

The divorce wasn't this bad. Dad packing up and moving literally across the country wasn't this bad.

Having to stand there and watch as she called for me, as she cried, as she laid her hand on the window, reaching for me? I can't put into words what I felt. How I still feel, whenever I think about it. There's just this ache, this emptiness, and I'm afraid it may never go away. I know it won't, not as long as she's there and I'm here.

I was pissed at Mom when we got home. I locked myself in my room and stayed there for the entire weekend. Davis made sure I had food and water, and I could hear Meg's soft footsteps as she crept to my door and put her ear to it, before she'd sigh and walk away. Mom wouldn't let me wallow anymore after that, and we had a long talk that Sunday night. She let us stay out of school until Wednesday, and the teachers were extra supportive about catching us up.

I also find it kind of funny that Mom went through the house and threw away all the razors. Sawyer said Peyton did the same thing, and I'm sure Quinn did, too. Now, Davis and I have to share this electric razor that leaves us both with a constant five-o-clock shadow.

That's not funny at all. That's morbid, and I'm going to hell for it, I'm sure.

Anyway, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are the busiest now. Every day, I get up, go to school, and work at the café when school's out. Fit homework and working out in there somewhere. Cart Meg around to whatever she has to do.

And aside from all that, on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons, we all get to gather at the therapist's office and talk about our feelings.

I hate that. Seriously. Who wants to go talk to some stranger about all the shit in their life? I get to sit on an uncomfortable couch that hundreds of people have probably sat on before me and tell this old chick my story? No, thanks.

The weird thing is, the counselor hasn't asked me about Lydia. What's really weird is that we don't even talk about her. We haven't for the entire month I've been going there. She wants to know about school, what sports I play (ha ha, NONE.). What my interests are outside of school. Do I play an instrument, what music do I like, my car. What I want to be when I grow up, where I'd like to go to college. I notice this because Lydia is always on my mind. Always, okay? And not talking about her ...

Well, I'm not going to lie. It's hard, but at the same time, it's kind of ... refreshing. And that makes me feel like an awful son of a bitch.

* * *

 

** _SAWYER_ **

I snapped at Ellie today. She didn't even do anything. We were just at the kitchen table, doing homework like we always do. She was muttering under her breath, because she literally cannot sit in complete silence. She was talking to herself, singing so softly I could barely hear her, and I just snapped. I don't even remember what I said. I remember it was loud, and horribly mean. Mom whirled around from the stove, eyes wide at me. Dad came in from the living room, glass in hand, mouth open, eyes narrowed at me. And Ellie… The look on her face…

I hurt her feelings. Really badly. I didn't mean to. I certainly didn't want to. But I did. And then I just stood up and walked out. Like nothing had happened at all. I got in the car and drove here, to the Rivercourt.

That was hours ago. I've been sitting on these damn, cold, uncomfortable bleachers for hours. I watched the sun go down a little while ago. Finally pulled this journal out as the lights came on.

I can't stop crying. I've been crying since I walked out of the house. Ugly tears, too. There are tear stains all over these pages. And I can't stop. I've tried. It hurts, from way deep down in my chest. I feel awful, for hurting my baby sister the way I did. I can't stop thinking about when she was little, when she was annoying and on my last nerve and she wouldn't stop playing with MY toys.

Dad took me aside and told me a story, about how when he was little, all he wanted was a brother. Someone he could play with, share his toys with, someone that would get on his nerves the way my sister did me. But he didn't get to grow up with his brother. They didn't get to really be brothers until they were older, and then Uncle Nate died.

Something resonated in me when he told me that story. I was four, Ellie was two. And all I could imagine was, "What if something happened to Ellie the way something happened to Uncle Nathan?" From that moment on, annoying little sister or no, Ellie was still my sister. I loved her, and I was going to cherish every moment I had with her as long as I could.

Then today happened. I can't get that thought out of my head now. "What if something happens to Ellie the way something happened to Uncle Nate?" What if the last thing I said to my baby sister was … whatever I said at the kitchen table? What if what I said makes her go and do something like Lydia did?

What if something I said was the reason Lydia did what she did?


	3. What Hurts the Most

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "What Hurts the Most" by Rascal Flatts

** _LYDIA_ **

Three months. Ninety days. Two thousand, one hundred and sixty hours, give or take a few. That's how long I was supposed to be in this hellhole. And guess what?

Yesterday started month number four.

Apparently, I'm not progressing the way I should be in my therapy. Obvious reason would be that I'm not talking. Not just that I'm not talking about what happened, why I did what I did. But the fact is … I'm just not talking. At all. I haven't said a word since they brought me here. And it isn't really even that I'm not talking.

I can't.

I've tried.

I want to, but I just can't. And I can't explain it, either. What if that medicine Jenny injected me with broke my voice box? (Okay, so I know that can't really happen, but… Humor me.) Now …

I've been looking forward to busting out of here for the entire time I've been here. Three months was the deal. After that was up, I could go home. I could see Jude. I would be better.

Why can't I do anything right?

* * *

 

_**JUDE** _

She's not coming home.

Quinn stopped by the café this afternoon, and she and Mom sat in a booth for a long time, just talking. I didn't go to them, mainly because I'm still so mad at Quinn. Yeah, maybe I should be mad at Mom because she went along with it, but I just can't. If anything, Brooke has been the best mother. She's the only thing I've been able to count on for my entire life, so this one little slip-up is forgivable, in my opinion. And she was just doing it because Clay and Quinn wanted her to, so they're the ones to blame, not Mom.

Anyway, Mom came to talk to me after Quinn left. She said Lydia's treatment isn't progressing the way they want it to. It's not progressing at all, actually. She isn't talking. Not a single word.

I don't understand this. Why isn't she doing what she needs to do? Doesn't she get that as long as she acts this way, they won't let her come home? I tried to talk to Mom, tried to get her to let me go see Lydia. If I could just see her, just talk to her for a minute, I know she'd be all right. But Mom said the doctor won't let her have any visitors. Apparently, seeing me or Quinn or Sawyer would do more harm than good, which I think is complete bullshit. Wouldn't keeping us apart be worse than letting us see her? What do the doctors know, anyway?

Apparently nothing, since Lydia won't talk to them. I wonder if she'd talk to me. I'm sure she would. She always did before. I was the only one she'd talk to in the hospital. I've always been the only one she'd talk to, about anything. I ...

I miss her. 

* * *

 

"Hey J—Hey."

Jude froze, setting the pen down, closing his journal. He turned in his desk chair, seeing his twin brother leaning against the doorframe. Davis' cheeks were flushed, probably from the greeting he'd almost let slip out. When Kevin Parker said it to Jude one day at school, Kevin had found himself on the receiving end of a bloody nose. It was the way Lydia always greeted him, and hearing it from someone else's mouth had just caused something to snap in Jude. After that, everyone watched what they said.

"Hey, Davis."

Jude turned back to his desk, and when his brother stayed quiet, Jude turned back around.

"Everything okay?"

Davis took in a deep breath, letting out a long breath.

"Not—not really. I, uh… I need to talk to you."

Jude pushed a smile on his face.

"Well, that's never good."

He motioned for Davis to come in, and he did, taking a seat on Jude's bed and looking down at his hands. Jude didn't say anything, and finally, Davis let out a shaking breath, lifting his head, tears in his bright blue eyes.

"I can't do this, Jude."  
"Do what?"

Davis took in another shaking breath, and Jude left his desk chair to sit on the bed with his brother. Davis closed his eyes, and a tear slid down his cheek.

"It hurts. Everywhere I go in this town reminds me of her, and it hurts, man."  
"I know, Davis. Believe me, I know, but it's—"  
"No, it's not. It's not going to get better."

Davis stood up, harshly wiping his hands under his eyes. Jude pressed his fingertips together as Davis stalked to the window, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared out to the yard. Meg was on the swingset they'd gotten the Christmas she turned three, when Davis and Jude were eight. She was just sitting on the swing, slowly going back and forth, digging the toe of her shoe in the dirt. Davis watched her, and Jude spoke quietly.

"You … You've been taking this hard."  
"I know."

Davis' voice was barely a whisper. He looked back to the bed, meeting Jude's dark eyes, then shaking his head.

"I don't really understand why."  
"She's your friend, Davis."  
"Yeah, but she … She's so much more than that to you, and you're doing the best out of all of us."

Jude smiled, shaking his head.

"Maybe on the outside."

Davis shook his head again, letting out a sigh.

"I was, uh … I was thinking … yesterday … that—that maybe I …"

Davis was staring at the floor now, talking to it rather than Jude, who narrowed his eyes.

"What were you thinking, Davis?"

Davis looked back up, meeting Jude's eyes, his own filled with tears again.

"I'm a horrible person."  
"Stop that."  
"No, I'm serious. What kind of a person would leave at a time like this?"  
"Whoa, what?"

Davis sighed, closing his eyes. Jude got to his feet.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Davis sighed again, shaking his head.

"She's not coming home. She's not getting better."

Jude closed his eyes.

"I know, man. I was there. I heard what Mom said."

Davis nodded.

"I don't know, I just … I thought … I thought this would help."

He looked back out the window, blinking at the rush of tears that came to his eyes again. His voice was rough as he spoke again.

"I really thought she'd get better, and she's … She's just not. She's not even trying."  
"Don't … Don't say that. Please."

Davis glanced back at the bed, seeing Jude's dark eyes pleading with him.

"She's trying. She has to be. She's going to get better and come back to us, and we'll be fine."

Davis nodded, then shook his head.

"I think you're living in a fantasy world."

Jude's mouth fell open, and Davis squeezed his eyes shut.

"No. Damn it. That's not—that's not what I wanted to say. Please. Jude, don't—"

Davis sighed, pushing his hands through his hair.

"I don't want to fight with you."  
"Then don't be a fucking asshole, you jackass."

Davis sighed again.

"School is out in a week, man. I was … I was hoping things would be …"

Davis pushed his hands through his hair, shaking his head.

"Why is this so hard?! I don't get it!"  
"If you figure it out, will you let me know?"

Davis met his brother's eyes, and he let out a long, ragged sigh.

"I'm just tired, Jude. And I know you are, too. It's just … I really thought things would be different than they are. I need … I think I just need a little while away from here to breathe."

Jude was staring at the floor.

"So you're going to go stay with Dad."

It wasn't even a question. Jude knew before Davis could even say it. Davis sighed, nodding his head, speaking softly.

"Yeah. I, uh … I'll spend the summer with him and Alex, and be back for school in the fall."

Jude nodded. Davis swallowed, then spoke softly again.

"Please say something."  
"I didn't think I had anything left. Thought I'd gotten everything out with Lydia. But I, uh … I was wrong."  
"Jude."  
"This hurts."

Davis squeezed his eyes shut.

"Please don't say that. I won't go. I'll stay. You—you need me here, so I'll just—"  
"Davis. You have to go."

Davis shook his head as Jude got to his feet.

"I'll stay here."  
"You need to go."  
"Jude—"  
"Stop. Hey."

He laid his hands on his brother's shoulders, watching as Davis took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"I get it. I do, I promise. This entire situation sucks balls, okay? There is nothing that we can do to make it better, except to figure it out on our own."  
"I don't want to leave you if you need me."

Jude forced a smile on his face.

"I don't want anything to happen to you, all right? I think … I think some time away will do you good. You can clear your head and come back with a fresh mindset."

Davis nodded.

"Yeah, and—and I bet Lydia will be coming home the same time, too."

Jude nodded, turning to wrap his brother in a hug. He squeezed his eyes shut at the way Davis hugged back, hard, before stepping back, wiping his face with his hand.

"I, uh… I need to go talk to Sawyer."

Jude nodded.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Jude looked up at his brother, pasting another smile on his face.

"Yeah, man."

Davis nodded, turning to leave the room. He held a hand on the rail beside the stairs, looking at his brother until Jude rolled his eyes, smiling as he motioned for Davis to go. He smiled as he jogged down the stairs, and Jude waited until he heard the front door open and shut. He stumbled over to his desk chair, gripping it tightly. He let out a shaky breath.

What the hell was going on here?

Davis was leaving?

Jude shook his head. He walked out of the room, walking down the stairs and to the kitchen without even realizing what he was doing. He got a glass out of the cabinet, filling it up with water. He took a sip before gripping the edge of the counter, then turning on his heel and hurling the glass at the wall. It shattered, broken glass covering the floor, water droplets falling from the wall. Jude whirled around when he heard the gasp.

Megan stood at the back door, one hand on the knob, dark eyes wide. Glass glittered the ground at her feet. Jude let out a sigh.

"I'm sorry. Meg, wait. Meg!"

She turned and ran from him, and Jude hung his head. He kept his feet flat on the floor, crouching down as low as he could get, covering his face with his hands. He heard the front door open and close, and he didn't look up as he heard his mother's heel clicking across the floor. She stopped in the kitchen.

"What in the world?"

Jude let his hands drop from his face as she rounded the bar, looking up to see her look from the pile of shattered glass to him. She didn't rush to him, like he was almost sure she would. Brooke set her purse on the counter and walked over slowly, crouching down beside him. She reached over, brushing her fingers through his hair.

"Talk to me."

Jude shook his head, wrapping his arms around his knees. Brooke sighed, sitting back and smoothing out her skirt.

"Honey, come on, now."  
"How can you just let him go?"

Brooke smiled softly.

"That's what I thought this was about."

Jude shook his head as tears welled up in his eyes.

"I already lost Lydia. She's gone, and I didn't even get to tell her goodbye. And now Davis is just going to leave? Mom, that's …"

He shook his head again, and Brooke gently rubbed a hand up and down his back.

"Honey, you have to see he's having a hard time with this. He came and talked to me, and we've talked to your dad. The counselor thinks it would be a good idea, too."

Jude nodded, shaking off her hand and standing up. He walked over to the counter, laying his hands on it.

"I'm sure sending him somewhere that it's not breathing down his neck every day would be a fantastic idea. Hell, Mom. Why don't we all go? We could take a vacation to somewhere warm and sunny and not even think about the way our lives are fucking shattered."  
"Jude Baker, I let you get away with a lot, but you will not use that language in front of me."

He hung his head as she stood up.

"I'm sorry."

He felt her hand on his back again, squeezing his eyes shut as fresh tears came.

"I know that this is hard. It is unbelievable to me, and I cannot begin to imagine what you must be going through. But honey…"

Brooke took hold of his shoulders and forced him to turn around, to look her in the eye.

"Jude, your brother is suffering, and in a big way. You've seen it; I know you have."  
"Are you scared, Mom? You afraid he'll do something like Lydia did?"

Brooke let out a breath.

"No. No, I don't think he'd do …"

She shook her head, and Jude lifted his eyes to hers.

"Then again, you never thought Lydia would, did you?"

Brooke blinked, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around Jude. He squeezed his eyes shut, then wrapped his arms around her.

"Mom."  
"I'm right here, baby."

He hugged her tighter as the tears slipped down his cheeks. Brooke sighed as she rubbed her hand up and down his back.

"I don't have the answers here, Jude. I don't know what to do, either. I just think this is what's best for Davis right now. He may get there and want to come right back home."  
"What if he does?"

Brooke pushed back, looking Jude in the eye and smiling.

"Then I'm expecting you to ride to the airport with me to pick him up."

Jude smiled, and Brooke ran her hand across his hair.

"We're going to get through this, okay?"

He nodded, then followed Brooke's gaze as she looked at the pile of broken glass. Jude let out a sigh, running his hand over his face.

"I scared Meg. I wasn't even thinking. I just threw it. I didn't look to see where she was. I thought she was outside."

Brooke let out a sigh.

"Where is she?"

Jude motioned towards the back door.

"She ran back outside before I could get to her."

Brooke nodded, then walked to lay a hand on Jude's shoulder.

"Why don't you go and check on her, and I'll clean this up."  
"Mom, I'll get it. You don't have to—"  
"Jude. Go get your sister."

He nodded, sidestepping the glass as he walked out the door, to the swingset. Just as he figured, he could hear the sniffles from the little "tree house" above the slide. He stepped over, smiling when he realized he was now eye-level with the window. He gently rapped on the side of the structure.

"Meg?"

He didn't get an answer, but the sniffles stopped.

"Come on, Meggie. Talk to me, please?"

He saw her dark eyes peek through the window, close to the bottom.

"Go away!"

Jude sighed.

"Come on, Meg. I'm sorry I scared you. I didn't mean to. I didn't know you were there. You sneak up on me like that all the time."  
"Why did you do it?"

Jude shrugged his shoulders.

"I was mad."  
"At me?"

He shook his head.

"No, kid. Not at you."  
"At Davis?"

Jude sighed.

"No, not at him either. I just … I guess I'm just mad in general. I shouldn't have thrown the glass."

He didn't hear anything for a minute, then Meg poked her head out just above the slide.

"You promise you're not mad at me?"

Jude smiled.

"What would I have to be mad at you about? You haven't done anything. Have you?"

She shook her head.

"Well, there you go."

She nodded, then let out a sigh. Jude stepped closer to her.

"What?"

She looked up at him, chewing on her bottom lip. Jude reached out and thumbed her chin, making her smile as he popped her lip out from between her teeth. He leaned closer to the slide.

"What is it?"  
"I just don't want you to feel bad. It was an accident."  
"What was?"

Meg sighed as she moved her legs out, sitting at the top of the slide. There was a cut along her leg that was bleeding, and a piece of glass embedded in the bottom of her foot. Jude let out a breath.

"Christ, Megan."  
"It's okay, Jude."  
"No, it—no, it isn't."

He moved, taking her in his arms, holding her against his chest as he carried her in the house. Meg wrapped her little arms around his neck, and Jude opened the door, walking over and sitting her on the counter.

"Mom!"

Brooke walked back into the room with the vacuum cleaner in her hand, seeing Jude's wide eyes.

"What?"  
"Meg. Mom, she—her foot is—"

Jude was panicking, breathing hard, eyes wide as he looked from Meg to his mother. A chill rolled down Brooke's spine.

"Honey, calm down."  
"Mom, you—you have to help her! She needs you to—"

He shook his head, blinking hard as he gasped for breath. Meg's eyes were huge as she watched him, and Brooke tried to stay calm, even as she knew he wasn't in the kitchen with them anymore.

"Jude, breathe. Everything is fine. She's all right."  
"She's bleeding. She's—there's … There's so much blood."

He was whispering now, eyes glazed over. He continued to shake his head, his whole body trembling now. Brooke took a step towards him, then stopped. Jude wrapped his arms around his stomach, squeezing his eyes shut, continuing to whisper about the blood. Meg had her eyes closed tightly, hands over her ears, knees drawn up to her chest on the counter. Brooke swallowed, stepping over to Jude.

"Jude. Look at me."

He shook his head, going on about the blood, looking down at his hands as his eyes widened. Brooke's heart was breaking. She spoke again, harsher than before.

"Jude Baker, look at me. Now."

He brought his wide eyes to hers, not even realizing there were tears coursing down his cheeks. Brooke took a step closer to him.

"Everything's okay."  
"She's bleeding. Mom, she's bleeding and she needs—"  
"It's all right, Jude."  
"The blood. There's—there's just so much—"  
"No, it isn't."

He brought his eyes to hers again, and Brooke gave him a smile as she cupped his face in her hands.

"She's all right, Jude. You helped her."

She wondered if he realized they weren't talking about Meg anymore. Jude shook his head, a low keening sound coming from his throat.

"She's bleeding."  
"Just a little bit."  
"It's all over the bathroom."  
"No, honey."

Brooke shook her head, letting go of Jude's face and taking his hands in her own. He tried to pull them away, but she held on tightly.

"Meg's right here, on the counter. We're in the kitchen, remember?"

Jude looked around, like he hadn't realized where they were. He met Brooke's eyes again, and her soft smile.

"In the kitchen?"

She nodded. Jude spoke again, his voice low and shaky.

"She was bleeding."  
"Just a little bit. It's just a little cut, honey."  
"But there … She was … It's Meg?"

Brooke nodded.

"It's just Meg."

Jude nodded, slowly. He repeated the words Brooke had just said, looking over to the counter, finally seeing his little sister, curled into a ball with her hands over her ears, rocking back and forth.

"Just Meg."  
"Yes."

Jude swallowed, letting out a long breath. He turned his eyes on Brooke.

"Am I going crazy?"

She smiled, unable to stop the tears from welling up in her eyes. Jude let out a ragged breath as she wrapped him in a hug. He buried his face in her hair, breathing shakily a few more times.

"Sweetheart, you have been through a horrible ordeal that I cannot even imagine. You are doing so good."  
"I could see her, Mom. It was … It was just like before. Like I walked into that bathroom and she was in the bathtub."  
"No, honey. You're here. With me."

Jude exhaled, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Meg's hurt."  
"Not bad."  
"She is bleeding."  
"Just the tiniest bit."  
"It's because of me."  
"What?"

Brooke pushed him back, and Jude let out a ragged breath.

"I threw the glass, and she—she cut her leg on it. There's a piece in her foot."  
"Oh, honey. No."

Brooke shook her head.

"That is not your fault. Stuff like that happens."  
"She could have gotten really hurt."  
"She didn't."

Jude sighed, and Brooke laid a hand on his cheek.

"Count your victories, Jude. Meg's fine. Couple of Band-Aids and she'll be good to go. She probably doesn't even need that."  
"But I—"  
"But nothing. She's okay. You're okay."

Jude closed his eyes, nodding. Then he spoke in barely a whisper.

"I don't feel okay."

Brooke closed her eyes, letting out a sigh at the pain in her heart. She opened her eyes again to see her son, the strong, six-foot, three-inches-tall young man staring at the ground, a broken look on his face, begging her to fix it, and she didn't have the slightest idea how. She leaned forward, looping a hand around the back of his neck and tugging him down where she could kiss his forehead.

"Go to the living room and sit on the couch. I'll be in there in just a minute, okay?"

He nodded, and Brooke kissed his forehead again before he walked away. She let out a sigh, pushing her hands through her hair before she walked to the counter. She laid a hand on Meg's back, and her dark eyes flew open as she looked up. Brooke gave her a smile, then closed her eyes again as Meg wrapped her arms around her mother's waist, putting her face in Brooke's shirt and crying. Brooke fought back the tears, lifting her head as she wrapped her arms around Meg, gently rubbing the little girl's back and brushing a hand through her hair.


	4. It Must Have Been Love, But It's Over Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It Must Have Been Love" by Roxette

Davis blew out his breath, looking down at his phone again. He hadn't replied to the latest text message, because he just couldn't find the words.

How do you tell someone goodbye without it sounding like it's over?

He sighed again, setting his phone on his knee and pushing his hands through his hair. He thought about standing up, turning around on the bleachers and tossing his phone into the river, but what good would that really do? Nothing at all. And he'd be out a phone. So he just sighed again, running his hands over his face, trying not to pay attention to the way his entire body seemed to itch with the urge to get up and go.

But he couldn't go. He couldn't run. Not from this. It was time to man up.

He looked down at his phone, seeing the time he received the message and the time it now was. Guess more time had passed than he thought. He started typing a reply, stopping when he looked up, seeing the headlights of a car shining in the waning sunlight. He stood up, feeling his mouth go dry as he saw the curly blonde head pop out of the driver's side. The smile lit up her face as Sawyer walked over to him, chewing a piece of gum.

"Hey, you goof."

Davis smiled at her, leaning forward to accept the kiss she gave him. She climbed up, sitting on the bleachers beside him. She scooted over, laying her head on his shoulder, and he smiled.

"How'd you know I was here?"  
"Because it isn't my first day with you?"

He looked down, and she smiled up at him, blowing a bubble and sucking it back into her mouth with a loud crack.

"You always come to the Rivercourt to think. By your texts, I deduced that you were thinking about something, and when you never texted me back, I decided to come to you."

Davis nodded, looking out over the basketball court, at the large arch near where Sawyer had parked. The letters in the arch, still shiny after all these years, read NATHAN SCOTT MEMORIAL RIVERCOURT, and sent a pain through Davis' heart. He cursed under his breath, and Sawyer sat up.

"Hey. What's up with you?"

Davis looked over to her, then hung his head as he let out a long breath.

"Saw, we uh … We need to talk."

Blue eyes went wide, and not a word was said. She stopped chewing on the gum, and the only sounds were the wind through the trees and the steady flow of the river behind them. She blinked three times, then turned to face forward.

"Well. That's never good."

Davis sighed, pushing his hands through his hair again. He stood up, walking down the bleachers and standing on the court.

"Hey."

He turned back, and Sawyer just stared at him.

"Whatever it is, we … It'll be okay, Davis."

He nodded, turning away from her, pushing his hands through his hair once again. He stopped, turning back, and cursed again as he walked back over, up the bleachers, taking Sawyer's face in his hands and kissing her. Her hands came up to rest on his arms, and he finally pulled back, resting his forehead on hers. They were both breathing hard, and Davis just decided to say it.

"Saw, I'm going to L.A. for the summer."

Her eyes blinked open, and after a second, she pushed back, throwing Davis off-balance for just a moment.

"What the hell did you just say?"

Davis sighed.

"Listen—"  
"No. No, you … You have got to be fucking kidding me!"

She stood up, pacing the bleacher for just a moment before she turned back to him, fire in her blue eyes.

"You're leaving?"

He let out a breath before nodding. Sawyer blinked her eyes wide, then set her hands on her hips. Davis stood up, speaking softly.

"Sawyer—"  
"Why? Why would you go now?"

Davis let out a breath at the pain he saw in Sawyer's eyes. He took a step towards her, holding out a hand, and she stepped back, blinking the tears away.

"Tell me, Davis."

He let out a sigh, turning to look out over the basketball court.

"I just … Everywhere I look around here reminds me of Lydia. She's all over this town. Hell, even here. This place is named after her dad. It's like I can't get away from it, the reminder of her and what she did, and I can't breathe. I just … I just need to breathe."

He turned to look at Sawyer, taken aback by the look on her face.

"You son of a bitch. Are you kidding me? You 'need to breathe?' So do I, Davis! So does your brother! You remember him, right? The one who found Lydia, pulled her out of the bathtub after she tried to kill herself?"

Davis closed his eyes, lifting a hand to his chest at the off-hand way Sawyer said her last sentence. She shook her head.

"Don't you think Jude needs you right now?"  
"You think this was an easy decision to make? I'm having a really hard time with this, Sawyer."  
"Yeah, join the club."

She turned away, walking to the end of the bleacher section she was standing on. She turned back to Davis, nodding her head.

"So you're running away because it's hard for you to think of Lydia?"  
"No, that … That's not what I said."  
"Really? 'Cause that's what I heard."

Davis shook his head, a disbelieving look on his face.

"Why are you being so cold about this?"  
"Because my big, strong boyfriend is telling me how he's running away with his tail tucked between his legs because 'it's hard.' That's pathetic, Davis."

He blinked bright blue eyes, shaking his head.

"Wow. You … Wow."

Sawyer shrugged her shoulders, glancing back at the river. She crossed her arms over her chest as Davis watched her.

"Sawyer, look. I … I don't want to leave like this. I feel like shit for even thinking about leaving, but … I can't stay here. Maybe—maybe you could come with me."

She shook her head, letting out an unamused chuckle.

"You see, Davis, the thing is … I don't want to leave. I have family here that needs me. I have a little sister who has no clue just how bad of a shitstorm our lives are right now, and I need to be there for her. You know the feeling, right? Only you're skipping out on your little sister."  
"That's not fair!"  
"Well, life's not fair, Davis. Haven't we witnessed that firsthand?"

Davis nodded, biting on the inside of his cheek, trying to calm himself down.

"I get that you're upset."  
"Upset? You think I'm … Oh my god."

Sawyer reached up, pushing her hands through the riotous curls on her head.

"I think I bypassed 'upset' when my best friend slit her wrists in a bathtub, okay? I am pissed the fuck off! We're all trying to figure out what to do, where to go from here, and you decide now is a good time to get the hell out of dodge?"  
"I'm not doing this on purpose, Sawyer. I didn't wake up this morning and decide, 'Oh. Now would be a good time to ruin Sawyer's life.'"  
"Really? 'Cause you can't tell that from where I'm standing."

She walked down the bleachers, down onto the court, and Davis stood in the stands, taking in deep breaths, letting them out slowly, trying to calm himself down. Sawyer let out another unamused laugh, letting her arms fall to her sides as she turned to look at Davis.

"What do you know? Looks like you're more like your father than any of us realized."

Davis went still, anger turning his blue eyes hard.

"What did you just say?"  
"Your hearing is fine, Davis. But if you'd like me to repeat myself—"  
"Shut up, Sawyer."  
"I said that you're just like your dad. If I remember correctly, which I know I do—"  
"Watch it, Scott."  
"It was when things got a little tough that Julian skipped town, right?"

Davis swallowed, hands clenching into fists at his sides.

"And now, looky here. Like father, like son."  
"Damn you, Sawyer."

She smiled, hiding the pain in her heart by lashing out at Davis. She nodded to him speaking as she turned to leave.

"Run away, Davis. See if I give a fuck."  
"You're a bitch."

She stopped, whirling around to face him.

"I'm not the one running away!"  
"I'm not running away, goddamn it! I'll lose my mind if I stay here!"  
"Keep telling yourself that. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Davis shook his head, disbelief coloring his features.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Sawyer rolled her eyes, and Davis made his way down the bleachers.

"I'm serious. What's made you into this … this angry little bitch?"

Sawyer shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know. I guess … I guess people I thought I knew continue to prove to me that I don't know anything at all. So why give a damn, when it doesn't matter at all in the end?"

She shrugged again, turning and walking away. Davis shook his head.

"I don't even know who you are right now."  
"I can tell you who I'm not. I'm definitely not your girlfriend anymore."

Sawyer walked over to her car, unlocking and opening the door. Davis tossed out his arms.

"So that's it? You're breaking up with me because I'm leaving?"  
"Leaving when I need you the most? Yes. Yes, that is why I'm breaking up with you."  
"Sawyer, come on."  
"Davis…"

They stared at each other for a full minute, before Sawyer spoke again.

"Go fuck yourself."

She spat her gum at him before she climbed in the car, starting it up and speeding away without a single look back. Davis stood on the Rivercourt alone, blinking as the lights came on. He looked up, squinting, then back in the direction Sawyer had just driven.

That was when he realized he wasn't alone.

"Owen?"

Owen Morello lifted a hand, sticking it back in the pocket of his jeans as he slowly made his way to Davis. Davis looked to the river, speaking low.

"How long have you been here?"  
"Oh, long enough."

Davis sighed again, dragging a hand over his face. Owen gave a sigh of his own, stepping up and putting a hand on Davis' shoulder. Davis shook his head, walking back to the bleachers as Owen followed him. They sat, not saying anything, and Davis covered his face with both hands, irritably tapping a foot on the court. He let his hands fall and looked to Owen.

"Shoot straight with me."

Owen nodded, and Davis let out a breath.

"Am I doing the wrong thing?"

Owen sighed. "Davis…"  
"I know, I know. You can't tell me. I have to make my own decisions. But I swear to God, Owen."

He shook his head, letting out an unamused laugh.

"If I don't get a moment of clarity, I'm going to lose my goddamned mind."

Owen let out another sigh, glancing down at the court, then back to Davis.

"I'm the first one to say I'm not the one to be giving advice. But honestly … I think you need to go."

Owen glanced over, seeing blue eyes staring back at him, begging for something Owen wasn't sure he could give. He swallowed, going on.

"I've seen you, bud. You're struggling. I think some time away is what you need."  
"But my mom—"  
"Will be just fine."

Davis nodded.

"You'll take care of her."

Owen nodded, smiling at the way Davis put it as a statement, not a question.

"And … and Jude? And Meg?"  
"They'll be okay, too. I'll take care of them."

Davis nodded again, letting out a shaky sigh.

"Am I a bad person? You know. For leaving?"

Owen leaned over, putting an arm around Davis' shoulders. Davis bit his lip hard at the sudden rush of tears to his eyes.

"I am just like my dad, aren't I? Taking off when things get rough."  
"Hey."

Davis looked up at Owen, who shook his head.

"Leaving doesn't make you a bad person. And I don't know your dad, or the story there. But in that sense, leaving when things are rough? You're not like him. You've tried to deal with this. It's just ... It's an impossible situation, kid. And this time … Leaving is showing that you're strong."  
"I don't feel very strong."  
"Give it time."

Davis smiled at that, letting out a sigh as he leaned over, laying his head on Owen's shoulder. Owen blinked, then tightened his hold on Davis. He nodded, and half an hour later, Owen followed Davis into the house. Brooke stood up from the couch, blinking when she saw Owen, a wide smile crossing her face.

"Hey."

Owen walked to her, kissing her gently on the lips, wrapping an arm around her as he stood beside her. Brooke looked from him to Davis, who was standing on the steps, looking down at his feet. Brooke and Owen exchanged a glance, and she sighed.

"How'd it go, bud?"

Davis looked up, shrugging his shoulders.

"She hates me."  
"No, she-"  
"Mom, she said it. She's pissed at me, and she broke up with me, and said she hates me."

Brooke sighed, and Owen gently rubbed her back. Davis glanced up the stairs, then let out a sigh.

"I'm going to go pack my stuff."  
"Davis…"

He turned away, walking up the steps. Brooke stared after him until she heard the bedroom door shut, and she closed her eyes. She felt Owen's hands on her arms, gently rubbing up and down, and she let out a shaky sigh, turning around, putting her face in his chest. He let his arms come around her, one gently rubbing her back, the other cradling the back of her head. Brooke let out another shaking breath, letting her hands come up Owen's back, holding him to her, fingers digging into his shoulder blades.

"Brooke, hey. It's okay."   
"No, it isn't."

Owen sighed, resting his head atop hers.

"I know. But it's going to be."  
"He's hurting so badly, Owen. They all are, and I don't … I don't know how to fix it. It's my job to fix it, and I can't this time."  
"Honey—"  
"No, you don't… You don't get it."

She stepped away from him, and he watched her, pacing slowly in the living room, bathed by the soft light of the candles she'd lit on the mantle.

"All their lives, I've been the one to make it better. To fix it. If they fell off their bikes and scraped their knees, I was the one they came to. One little kiss and a Band-Aid, and they were fine. If they got a bad grade, I was the one they came to, and sitting with me, talking to me, letting me tell them that it's not the end of the world, they would be fine. When Julian…"

She stopped, shaking her head, then pushing on.

"When Julian left, for months, I had two little boys that just stared at me. Meg asked the questions. 'Where's Daddy? When is he coming home? Why did he go?' Jude pretended like Julian didn't exist. But Davis … Davis took it so hard. One night, months after the divorce proceedings started, Davis came to my room in the middle of the night. I've always told them they could come to me anytime, especially late at night. My parents never did that for me, and I suffered in my room so much when I was little, scared of the monster in my closet or the dark or whatever, and I was not going to let my children suffer the same way."

Owen smiled, at the strength of the woman who continued to slowly pace in front of him.

"It was three in the morning, and Davis came to me. He had these dark circles under his eyes, and he'd gotten in trouble at school again that day, for not doing his homework for the third time. It was so unlike him, but we just attributed it to the fact that his father had just left."

Brooke shook her head, finally stopping, turning to face Owen. Tears were in her dark eyes.

"He woke me up, and I looked at him, my baby boy, and I had never seen such pain in his eyes. I sat up, taking hold of his hand, and he—he told me he couldn't do it anymore. He was trying to be strong, trying to carry it all on his little shoulders. He looked at me, and asked me what he'd done wrong. I will never—ever—forget the way his voice sounded."

* * *

 

_"Mama. Mama, wake up."_

_Brooke blinked widely, opening her eyes, closing them again on a yawn. She blinked them open again, looking to the side of the bed, and Davis stood there, in a gray t-shirt and the Ninja Turtle pajama pants that he'd rolled his eyes at when he opened them on his birthday. Brooke had known better, though, and sure enough, Davis had nearly the worn the pants out. Brooke yawned again, glancing at the clock._

_"Baby, what are you doing up so late?"_  
_"I can't … I can't sleep."_

_She looked at him then, sitting up as she really looked at him._

_"Honey, how long has it been since you slept?"_

_Davis shrugged his shoulders, and Brooke's mouth fell open._

_"Davis—"_  
_"Mama, I can't … I can't do this anymore."_

_A worried look came over her face as Davis' breathing sped up._

_"I'm just—I'm so tired, Mama. And I can't sleep. And I don't know—I'm trying to be brave. I'm trying not to bother you, because I don't want you to cry anymore, but Mama… I just can't."_  
_"Baby, baby. Hey."_

_She reached over, taking Davis' hands, dropping one and gently brushing the hair back from his face._

_"Sweetheart. You're not bothering me. You can always come to me, for anything at all. It doesn't matter what it is; you won't be bothering me."_

_Tears were in Davis' eyes when he looked back to his mother's eyes._

_"Why did he leave?"_

_Brooke's hand stilled on Davis' forehead. His voice was barely a whisper._

_"What did I do, Mama? Was I bad? I didn't mean to be. I know I fight with Jude and Meg a lot, but I'll—I'll stop. I can be good, Mama. I can—"_

_She leaned over and pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around him, letting out a sob when he squeezed her with all his ten-year-old strength. Brooke cried, because there was nothing else she could do. This was breaking her heart, even more than it was already broken. She felt Davis' tears soaking her shoulder, and they just stayed that way, holding each other and crying, until Brooke could speak again._

_"Davis James Baker. You listen to me."_

_He leaned back, rubbing a hand over his eyes, bringing the red-rimmed, tear-filled blue eyes to meet Brooke's. She reached out, cradling his face in her hands._

_"You did nothing wrong. You and your brother and your sister are the best things in this entire world. Your dad and I love you more than you could ever even begin to know."_  
_"Then why did he leave?"_

_Brooke sighed._  
_"It's grown-up stuff, baby."_  
_"But you guys are always saying that we need to stop fighting and act right, and if we'd just done that, if we'd just listened to you—"_  
_"Stop it. Davis."_

_She lifted his chin, forcing him to look at her again._

_"Honey, you're just kids. You know what kids do?"_

_He lifted and dropped his shoulders, making Brooke smile._

_"They fight. They fight with their brothers and sisters and drive their parents crazy, and we swear if you'd just calm down and act right… But you know what?"_

_He looked down, and Brooke leaned in._

_"Can I tell you a secret?"_

_Davis nodded._

_"I think I would just hate it if you guys all listened and acted right."_

_Davis looked back to her, blue eyes wide. Brooke smiled, lifting a hand to cup his cheek._

_"You're just kids. You're supposed to fight with each other and not listen to a word I say and do the complete opposite of what I'd like you to do. You're supposed to drive me crazy, and in a weird way I still haven't figured out, that keeps me sane."_

_She smiled, reaching up to ruffle his hair._

_"I don't want some good, obedient, little robot kids. I want my wild little Megan. I want my quiet Jude, and I want my rowdy Davis back."_

_He looked down again, and Brooke sighed._

_"I know it's hard. I know you don't understand, and I wish I could help you. But I want you to listen closely. It is not your fault that your dad left. You didn't do anything wrong. Sometimes … Sometimes people just need some space."_  
_"Do you think he'll ever come back?"_

_Brooke swallowed, looking down at her bedspread, then letting out a breath._

_"No, honey. No, I don't think he will."_

_Davis' face crumpled, and Brooke reached out, pulling him back into her arms as he cried. He climbed up on the bed, curling up beside his mother, as she held him, stroking his hair and letting him cry. After a while, once Davis' sobs had quieted to intermittent hiccups, he spoke quietly._

_"It wasn't my fault?"_

_Brooke didn't answer, and Davis leaned back, looking up at her._

_"I didn't do something to make Dad leave?"_

_Brooke shook her head, and Davis let out a sigh._

_"I just … I thought I had. I thought I'd done something, and if I could—if I could just figure out what it was, I could say I was sorry, or fix it, and he'd come back."_  
_"Oh, baby. No."_

_Davis sighed, leaning to rest his head against Brooke's shoulder as she gently rubbed his back._

_"No one did anything wrong. It is not your fault, and it's not Meg's or Jude's. Do not take the blame for this, Davis, because it's not your burden to carry."_

_Davis nodded, letting out a long sigh. Brooke ran her hands through his hair as he yawned so widely a tremor ran through his body._

_"You haven't been sleeping."_

_Davis shook his head, and Brooke sighed._

_"How long?"_

_He shrugged his shoulders, speaking softly._

_"Since Dad left."_

_Brooke squeezed her eyes shut._

_"You better listen to me, dude. Do not ever do this again. You come and talk to me, do you understand?"_

_Davis nodded, and Brooke sighed._

_"No school for you tomorrow."_  
_"Mom?"_  
_"You need to rest, honey. Go on to sleep. I'll be right here."_  
_"Mama, I—"_

_She smiled._

_"I won't tell anyone you had to come and sleep with your mom."_  
_"I'm not a little kid."_

_Brooke smiled at the sleep-heavy grumble Davis gave. He rolled onto his side, letting out a sigh as Brooke covered him with the sheet and the comforter, and he was out. Brooke sighed, leaning over to run her fingers through his hair._

_"My sweet boy. My sweet, tenderhearted little boy."_

_She shook her head as tears filled her eyes again, and she stayed up, watching over her son as he slept soundly for the first time in months._

* * *

 

Brooke blinked her eyes as she felt Owen's hand on her arm. She looked to it, then to him, and he lifted a hand to her face, his thumb wiping away tears she hadn't realized she was crying.

"He slept for twenty-four hours. I made him get up and eat, go to the bathroom, but he'd fall right back in bed. He was ten years old, Owen, and he … I should have known this was coming this time."

Owen tilted his head to the side, and Brooke shook her head, leaning forward to press her forehead to Owen's chest.

"I don't know how to deal with this."

Owen ran a hand through her dark hair.

"You're doing fine, Brooke."  
"I don't feel like I am."  
"Trust me, babe. You are."

She leaned back to look at him, and he smiled.

"They're good kids, Brooke. All of them. This is an impossible situation, but it's going to get better. I don't know when and I don't know how, but I know that it will."

Brooke smiled, going to her tiptoes, pressing her lips to Owen's.

"Thank you. And thank you for being here. Not just for me, but for my kids, too."  
"It's my pleasure."

Brooke sighed.

"I should go help him pack."

Owen nodded.

"I'll see myself out."

He kissed her one more time, walking with her to the stairs, watching her go up a few.

"Hey, Brooke?"

She stopped, turning back to him.

"You know you can call me anytime, right? No matter how late."

She smiled, looking down, then nodding. Owen nodded back, letting out a breath as he turned and opened the door.

"Hey, Owen?"

He glanced behind him, seeing the dimples in her cheeks.

"Thank you. For everything."

He grinned.

"No trouble at all, Ms. Davis."

He pulled the door shut behind him, and Brooke let out a sigh, making her way up the steps. She stopped in the doorway of Davis' room, smiling when she saw Jude sitting on the floor, leaning his head back on the bed, where Meg was sitting cross-legged, playing with Jude's too-long hair. Davis walked back and forth from the dresser to the closet to the bed, placing different things in the suitcase that was open beside Meg. Brooke nodded and smiled as she quietly walked away.

* * *

 

Late that night, Brooke felt a little hand shaking her awake.

"Mama? Are you asleep?"

Brooke smiled as she rolled over, blinking sleepy eyes until Meg came into focus. Brooke glanced at the clock, then yawned.

"What are you doing up so late, princess?"

Meg yawned, rubbing her eyes.

"I had a bad dream."

Brooke sat up, flipping on the lamp on her nightstand.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Meg shook her head.

"Can I stay with you?"

Brooke smiled, nodding her head as she pulled the blankets back for Meg to climb in bed with her. Meg climbed in beside her, snuggling up next to her, jumping when a loud crack of thunder sounded. Brooke glanced towards her window, saw the rain pelting the glass.

"Goodness. How long has that been going on?"  
"A while."

Meg yawned again, and Brooke smiled, leaning over to turn the lamp off. She stopped short, letting her arm drop as she leaned farther over.

"Jude?"

He stepped around the doorframe, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. Meg sat up, and Jude shrugged his shoulders.

"I wasn't sleeping, and I heard Meg get up."  
"Yeah, me too."

Jude jumped when Davis appeared seemingly out of nowhere behind him. Jude let out a breath, punching his brother on the arm as Davis, Meg, and Brooke laughed.

"Don't do that! You scared the crap out of me."

Meg was doubled over in the bed, and Brooke couldn't help but laugh, too. Thunder cracked outside again, and Meg scooted closer to Brooke. Brooke smiled, running a hand through Meg's dark hair. Brooke looked to her boys, neither of whom would look at her. Meg finally leaned backwards, until she met Brooke's eyes.

"I think they want to stay with us, Mama."  
"Oh, come on."  
"No!"

Brooke bit her lip, nodding her head at the twins' refusals, until Jude sighed, glancing back at Davis. Davis shrugged, and Brooke let out a sigh.

"Come on, you two."  
"I won't tell anybody."

Jude narrowed his eyes at Meg, who just giggled as she snuggled closer to Brooke. Brooke reached to turn off the light as Jude and Davis climbed into the big bed, Davis reaching over and tickling Meg's feet. They all laid down, Brooke pulling the covers up, laying back, opening her eyes as a strong hand gripped hers. She sat up just a bit, looking to see Meg already asleep, Davis drifting right behind her, and Jude staring back at her, dark eyes wide and full of emotion. Brooke smiled softly, squeezing Jude's hand. She whispered quietly.

"It's going to be okay, honey." He nodded, laying his head on the pillow, keeping hold of his mother's hand. She watched him until his eyes grew heavy. She stayed awake until she felt Jude's grip finally loosen, as he slid into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

 

Sawyer walked in the house, pulling the door closed silently behind her. She shook like a wet dog would, trying to get the rain off her shoulders and hair, and gripped the counter as an overwhelming sensation of nausea gripped her. She waited a moment, then walked to the trashcan and spit out the wad of spearmint gum she'd hastily shoved in her mouth, trying to override the smell of the alcohol on her breath. She gripped the trashcan for just a second, doing her best not to throw up in it. Once the nausea had passed, she stumbled into the living room, rolling her eyes when she saw her father asleep in his chair, an empty glass still in his hand.

"I'm not drunk enough for this."

She walked over, shaking his shoulder, speaking softly.

"Dad. Dad, get up."

Lucas blinked bleary eyes open, looking up at his daughter as she took the glass from him, missing the table once before she set it down.

"Sawyer?"  
"Come on, Dad. Let's get you to bed."

He looked around the room for a second, then back to her.

"Sawyer, you smell like a brewery."  
"No, Dad. That's you. Come on."

She helped Lucas to his feet, both of them swaying, Sawyer doing her best not to throw up everywhere. She gained her balance after a moment, and slowly led her father down the hall. He shook his head when she started walking towards the master bedroom, and Sawyer let out a sigh as she turned, helping Lucas into the guest room instead. She sat him down on the bed, then pushed her hands through her hair.

"Go to sleep, Dad."  
"Sawyer, I … I'm sorry."  
"Yeah, me too. Just go to sleep."

Lucas nodded, rolling over and clutching a pillow as he passed out again. Sawyer shook her head, grabbing a blanket and draping it over him. She made her way back to the door, looking at Lucas, shaking her head again. She pulled the door shut behind her, walking back to the kitchen, digging around until she found the place Lucas had tried to hide the … whiskey, this time. Before, Sawyer would pour it down the sink, crying, praying this time would be the last time she'd have to do it.

Now, though, she turned the bottle up, drinking greedily, closing her eyes at the burn of the whiskey down her throat. She finished off the bottle, setting it gently in the bottom of the trash, one hand on the wall as she made her way back to her room. It took her a long time to wrestle her shirt over her head, and she did her best not to throw up everywhere. She dug in different drawers for pajamas before she decided to just give up, crawling into bed in her bra and underwear. She pulled the covers up around her, glancing around the dark room, letting out a shuddering sigh before pulling the covers over her head.


	5. Someday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Someday" by Nickelback

** _LYDIA_ **

It happened again.

I remember standing at the window in the living room-thing, looking out the window at the tree in the middle of the courtyard. A blue jay was flying around it, landing on the grass, walking around, flying off around the tree. Creature of habit, I guess. I remember watching the blue jay, hearing the news playing on the TV behind me.

And the next thing I remember is blinking my eyes and sitting up in the bed in this room. It's dark outside, and to be completely honest, I am freaking out.

What is wrong with me? What is going on where I completely black out? I don't even know what day it is. I'm crying so hard right now. I'm so scared.

I just want to go home. 

* * *

 

**_JUDE_ **

It's been a week since Davis left, and I feel like it was only yesterday. He cried when he got on the plane. Mom cried, of course. Megan cried. I carried her away from the airport, and she clung to me like the whole day. I guess she's afraid I'll leave her, too.

I'm not mad at him for going. I mean, sure. At first, I definitely was. How could my brother, my very best friend, just take off when I need him the most? But the more I thought about it…

Hell, I'm still mad. How could he take off now, of all times? I don't want to be mad at him, because I get it. Really, I do. Davis is having a really hard time coming to grips with what Lydia did. But to be completely honest… So are the rest of us.

God, I still miss her so bad. Like right now, all I want to do is just lay with her and talk. I want to feel her head on my chest, her hand resting in mine right over my heart. I want her. I just want her, and … She's not here. This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I feel like I can't breathe without her here. I've been putting on a show for everyone, but inside… in my heart…

I feel like I'm dying. 

* * *

 

**_ SAWYER  _ **

Remind me never to pound Jager shots and follow it up with a quarter of a bottle of Jack, okay? Ugh, worst hangover ever. My head is still pounding, and it's been two days since that party. Dad was passed out when I got home. Again. I somehow finagled him into standing up and walking to the guest room. Again. I keep saying I need to talk to Mom about that, see what she thinks of Dad sleeping in the guest room all the time, but I just can't find the … Well… I guess I can't find a shit to give.

What a life, huh? Ain't it strange how life can go from (seemingly) on top of the world to scraping the bottom in a matter of …

Months? Has it really been months? Damn.

* * *

 

**_LYDIA _ **

After the fourth nightmare in as many nights, I've made an executive decision. I'm not going to take those little green pills they keep giving me. Those were new last week, and since the nightmares are a side effect that I do not particularly enjoy, I'm not going to take them anymore.

I want to go home so badly. I wish Jude was here. He'd make me feel better. He always has. God, I miss him so much.

At this juncture, I miss everybody. Even Clay and Quinn.

Maybe especially Clay and Quinn.

I'm so incredibly fucked up right now.

I want to go home.

* * *

 

_**SAWYER** _

I think Mom may be on to me. Ellie definitely is, even if Mom isn't. How do I know, you ask? Because Peyton keeps giving me judgy looks every morning (if I manage to get up before noon—it is summer, after all) but Ellie …

She was there when I woke up today, and she handed me a yellow Gatorade and an Aleve. I looked from the things she handed me, back to her face, and all she did was sigh and tell me to take a shower before I came down. I feel bad, kind of. Ellie's looked up to me as far back as I can remember. I knew it, and Mom and Dad always told me so.

_"Be careful, Sawyer. Your sister's watching."_

Sneaking out to go to different parties and getting blackout drunk or damn near it every night is definitely not setting a good example for young Elizabeth. But it's the best I've got right now. I'm coping the best way I know how, you know? I'm not doing drugs, not going to do drugs. I'm just partying a little. Seventeen-year-olds do it all the time! It's just a little harmless fun.

Well… Maybe not so harmless. Not for my liver, anyway.

Maybe that's something I should ask Dad about. He does it every night, too. He doesn't get judgy looks from Peyton, though. How is it okay for him, but not for me? Aside from the legal drinking age and shit like that.

Whatever. It's not like I really care.

I have to get ready.


	6. Guinevere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Guinevere" by the Eli Young Band

Sawyer rolled over in the bed, squeezing her eyes shut at the incessant light. Her mouth felt like she'd slept with a wad of cotton balls in it, and when she tried to swallow, her throat was drier than the desert. She whimpered, pulling the covers over her head.

"Saw? You awake?"

Sawyer just moaned, and her sister walked in, shutting the door behind her. She gently pulled the covers from Sawyer's head, and Sawyer opened her eyes, looking to see the curtain pulled closed.

"Thanks."

Ellie smiled, handing Sawyer a cold Gatorade, red this time, and two Aleve liquid gels. Sawyer lifted the Gatorade towards Ellie, taking a few small sips before she took the pills. Ellie sat down on the bed, and Sawyer pushed a hand through her golden curls. Ellie took in a deep breath, then turned to face her sister.

"Saw, we need to talk."

Sawyer sighed, taking another drink of Gatorade.

"That's never good."

Ellie smiled, a small, fake smile that was gone nearly as soon as it appeared. She sighed again, and Sawyer sat up, fluffing her pillows behind her back and leaning into them. Ellie lifted her eyes to Sawyer's.

"I waited up for you last night."  
"El, you didn't—"  
"I know. I know I didn't, but I did anyway. And before you came home, I … I helped Dad to the guest room."

Sawyer's blue eyes went wide.

"Ellie."

Ellie shrugged her shoulders as she stared down at the bedspread.

"Someone had to help him, and the last time you tried, you both ended up on the floor."  
"What?"

Ellie smiled again, a sad smile on her face as she traced the flowers on Sawyer's comforter.

"I figured you didn't remember. It was like two weeks ago. I heard this horrible noise, and you and Dad were on the floor by the kitchen, and Mama's vase was on the floor."

Sawyer closed her eyes, pushing her hand through her hair as Ellie continued to talk.

"I helped you both up, helped Dad into the guest room, then helped you in here. It … It scared me, at first. Because I didn't get it, you know? I didn't know what it meant when you just passed out and barely moved. I stayed up, watching you, until you woke up and ran to the bathroom."  
"El, I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have to deal with this."

Ellie shrugged her shoulders again.

"After that, I guess I got used to it. I helped Dad to bed, then I'd wait for you to get home. I just …"

Ellie lifted her eyes then.

"It's been happening for two weeks now. Don't you get tired of it? Going out every night, coming home falling down drunk?"  
"Ellie."  
"Doesn't it get old? I mean, Jesus, Sawyer. I thought you had more respect for yourself than this."  
"Whoa, now. What brought this on?"

Ellie sighed, standing up from the bed and kneeling on the floor. Sawyer leaned over to watch her, saw Ellie digging through the pockets of the jeans Sawyer had worn the night before. Ellie stood back up, climbing onto the bed, placing something in front of her sister.

"Since I found this in your pocket last night."

Sawyer's eyes grew wide. She swallowed, lifting a shaking hand to pick up the condom Ellie had placed on the comforter. Ellie took in a breath, pushing her hands through her hair.

"I love you, you know that. And I don't want anything bad to happen to you. If you're going to these parties and … doing stuff with random guys… Saw, that's dangerous."  
"Ellie…"  
"Do you even know what you did last night? Do you even remember?"

When Sawyer couldn't meet her eyes, Ellie sighed.

"I didn't think so."

Ellie reached over, squeezing Sawyer's hand.

"I'm not going to tell you what to do. I am going to tell you that I love my sister, and I need her around. So maybe … Maybe you could keep that in mind tonight?"

Sawyer watched as her sister stood up, walking out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her. Sawyer let her head fall back, thumping against the headboard, letting out a quiet groan. She wanted to crawl under her bed and die. There weren't many moments she could recall when she literally wished she could die, but her baby sister pulling a condom out of her back pocket was definitely one of them. Sawyer sighed, pushing her hands through her hair, climbing out of bed and going to the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror, groaning when she got a good look at her reflection, then turned on the shower, as hot as she could stand it, washing away any evidence of the night before.

* * *

 

Sawyer let out a laugh, tossing her shot glass to the guy in the letter jacket, who flashed her a big smile as he caught it. She winked at him, brushing her fingertips through her hair. She was feeling the buzz intensely tonight, and she was loving every minute of it. Amanda Greene, the head cheerleader for the Tree Hill Ravens, walked over to her, whispering in her ear.

"That guy wants you so bad."

Sawyer just smiled.

"Few more shots like that, he can have me."  
"Pick you up off the floor, you mean? That's what happened last time."

Sawyer laughed, nodding her head. Amanda gave her a wink, then turned to the guy Sawyer had been flirting with.

"Is there a reason why our hands are empty?"

The guy smiled, straight white teeth appearing from behind his lips.

"My apologies, ma'am."

He turned from her, then back with two cups.

"Here you go, and give this one to your friend."  
"My friend?"  
"Blondie right there, with those pretty eyes."

Sawyer felt her face flush, and she flashed him a smile as Amanda handed her the drink. Amanda laughed as she took a sip.

"Yep. Someone's getting lucky tonight."

Sawyer laughed, giving Amanda a wink as she nodded her head, tapping her cup to Amanda's. They started to walk out of the room, when Sawyer stopped, swaying just a little before walking back to the guy.

"Hey, bartender."

He smiled as he turned to her, leaning over the counter the same way she was.

"I'm not actually a bartender, you know."  
"Well, you've been playing one for me all night, and you're damn good at it."

The guy smiled, leaning over and brushing his fingers across the back of Sawyer's hand.

"What's your name, pretty girl?"  
"Sawyer. What's yours?"  
"Luke."

Sawyer raised her eyebrows. That would be about right, wouldn't it? This hot guy having basically the same name as her father? God, that was the last thing she needed to be thinking about right then. She shook her head, causing the curls to bounce around her face, and shot Luke a dazzling smile.

"Maybe I'll see you around, Luke."

She leaned over the counter, closing the distance between them by tugging on his jacket, pressing a kiss against his lips. He smiled as she pulled back, winking at him again, before she turned to leave with Amanda.

"You whore."  
"Takes one to know one."

Amanda just laughed, looping an arm around Sawyer's waist as they walked through the house, to the backyard where a keg was set up. Sawyer pushed her hands through her hair, thankful for the breeze that was blowing, feeling the alcohol begin to hit her system just a bit harder.

"Finally."  
"Sawyer?"

She let her hands fall, turning around, a smile on her face at the sound of the deep voice, that smile quickly fading when she noticed who was staring at her.

"Logan?"

Logan Evans narrowed his dark eyes, glancing around, then stepping forward and wrapping one of his massive hands around Sawyer's arm. He led her over to an area off the porch, where no one else was at the moment. He let her go, glancing around once more before turning to her.

"What the hell are you doing here?"  
"What does it look like?"  
"It looks like you're drunk."

Sawyer pointed at him.

"Bingo."

Logan pushed a hand through his dirty blonde hair.

"Christ. How'd you even get in here?"

Sawyer shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm pretty?"  
"They don't know you're only sixteen, do they?"  
"I'm seventeen now, thank you very much. And no, they don't. And they won't, as long as you keep your mouth shut."

Logan let out a laugh.

"Oh, no ma'am. Come on. I'm taking you home."

He reached out a hand and Sawyer backed away, blue eyes wide.

"No, Logan, please. Come on, I—let me stay."  
"Sawyer, no way. You're too young to be at a college party. There are guys here who … Never mind. Just come on. Let me take you home."

He reached out for her again, but there was something on her face that made him stop.

She was a beautiful girl. He'd always thought that, but he'd always steered clear of her, because she was six years younger than he was, and frankly, he'd had more important things on his mind. Well, what he'd considered more important things.

She broke away from his eyes, staring at the ground. Logan sighed, closing his eyes for a second before reaching over and taking her hand, pulling her to him, sitting her down on the couch, taking the seat beside her.

"Now."

He turned to face her.

"Talk to me."

Sawyer shook her head, looking at her hands in her lap. Logan smiled.

"I can be a hardheaded son of a bitch, Sawyer. I'm not giving up until you talk to me."

She blew her breath out, turning to face him.

"This isn't the first 'college party' I've been to, okay?"

Logan narrowed his eyes, and Sawyer rolled hers.

"I've been going to these things for weeks, now. Ever since school let out."  
"Jesus, Sawyer."  
"Shut up. Just shut up. You have no right to judge me."  
"Who said I was judging?"

She looked over, and Logan had his hands up, palms towards her.

"Not judging. Just … Worried."

Sawyer let out a breath.

"The last thing I need is someone else worrying about me."

Logan nodded slowly, and Sawyer took in a deep breath.

"I just … This is the best way I've found to cope, okay? I've become Monster Bitch, and I hate it, but for a few hours every night, I can forget. Just for a little while, I can forget about what a clusterfuck my life is, the way my best friend is floundering in a mental institution while my father drinks himself to death in our living room. I can forget how my boyfriend—now ex-boyfriend—left me because it was 'too hard,' while his brother is being held together with Scotch tape and wishes. I can forget how bad it fucking hurts to take a breath and block out the happy girl I used to be and the horrible person I am now."

She turned to Logan, tears in her blue eyes, rolling down her cheeks.

"I know it's not healthy, okay? But it's all I've got right now. Please don't take this away from me. Please don't … Just …"

Logan reached over, taking Sawyer into his arms. She gave a gasp of surprise at first, then softened, resting her head on his shoulder as he felt her tears soak into his shirt. She let her arms come around him, and Logan let out a sigh.

"I get it, okay? I do. I feel like I'm barely scraping by, too. But Saw … I can't just stand back and let you keep doing this. You're killing yourself, kid. Not like this, okay? There's got to be a better way, and I'll help you find it, all right?"  
"Logan."  
"Shh. I'm here now. We're going to get through this, Sawyer. Some way, I promise you. But not like this."

She shook her head, and he just held her tighter. When she moved from his arms, he held her hair back while she threw up into the bushes. When her stomach was empty, he lifted her into his arms, carrying her as though she weighed nothing at all, out to his truck where he buckled her in, driving to her house. She told him where the spare key was, and he unlocked the door, quiet as a mouse, carrying her inside, looking up to see the shocked look on Ellie's face.

"Go back to bed, kid. I've got her."

Ellie just blinked her big blue eyes at him, and Logan made his way through the kitchen, down the hall. Sawyer had an arm wrapped around his neck, her face buried in the place where his neck met his shoulder. Ellie just stared at them, and when Logan got close to her, she motioned towards Sawyer's room. Logan walked inside, setting Sawyer down on the bed, pulling the covers back as she rolled over, tucking her in and sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked up, meeting Ellie's wide, worried eyes, and smiled softly.

"She'll be all right."  
"Is she drunk?"

Logan sighed, but nodded his head. Ellie nodded back.

"She usually is these days."

Logan watched Ellie as she walked over, grabbing Sawyer's trash can and bringing it closer to the bed. Ellie sighed, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. Logan leaned over, moving the hair away from Sawyer's face, and watched her breathe. After a minute, he stood up, laying a hand between Ellie's shoulder blades and following her out of Sawyer's room. He pulled the door shut behind him, and followed Ellie to the kitchen. She hopped up on the counter, staring at the floor while Logan walked to the refrigerator, taking a bottle of water out.

"I'll pay you back, I promise."

Ellie smiled as she watched him twist the top off, taking a long drink of the water. He sighed, walking over to the window and glancing out.

"She do this often?"

Ellie sighed at his quiet question. Then again, Logan never had been much of a talker. Usually when he did talk, it was important, and everyone stopped to listen. Ellie continued to stare at the ground as she talked.

"She didn't use to. It started around the time Davis left. Maybe a week or so before? It's just gotten worse over time, though."

Logan nodded, taking another drink of his water.

"It's almost July. School's barely been out for a month."

Ellie nodded.

"I think it started before school let out. I thought … I thought maybe she was just trying to find a way to cope with Lydia and everything, but now it's every day and…"  
"I know, kid."

Ellie looked up to see Logan's dark eyes looking back at her. He gave her a smile, and she tried to smile back, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Logan sighed as he stepped from the window, walking over to the counter where Ellie was perched.

"I told her, and I'll tell you. There's a better way to deal than by doing this. I'm going to help her find it."

Ellie nodded, tears welling up in her blue eyes. Logan stepped closer, and Ellie wrapped her arms around him, putting her face in his chest as he sighed, wrapping his arms around her.

"Don't try to shoulder this all on your own, El. Promise me."

She nodded, and he hugged her tighter.

"I mean it, kid. I can see it on your face."

She nodded again, leaning back, scratching her nails on the top of her head, fiddling with her ponytail. Logan leaned back, and Ellie sighed, wiping the tears off her face.

"You're right. I thought I could handle it, but—"  
"You shouldn't have to handle it. This isn't your burden, okay? Don't try and take this on."  
"She needs someone to take care of her."  
"And it doesn't need to be her fifteen-year-old sister."

Ellie smiled.

"You remembered."

Logan smiled back.

"You kidding? Riley was obsessive about that picture for weeks. It had to be perfect for her best friend's birthday."  
"It was perfect. It was a great birthday."

Ellie sighed, looking over to Logan.

"Thanks. For everything."

Logan shrugged a shoulder.

"I haven't really done anything yet."

Ellie smiled.

"You will, though."

She yawned, and Logan smiled.

"Go get some sleep. I'll come by tomorrow."

Ellie nodded, hopping off the counter. She followed Logan to the door, shutting it and locking it once he was gone. She waited until she heard the truck start, then leaned back against the door, letting out a long sigh. She walked down the hall, stopping in Sawyer's room. She was still sleeping, curled up on her side, blankets pulled up to her chin. Ellie sighed.

"I really hope you'll let him help, Saw. We can't keep living like this."

She turned and left the room, pulling the door shut behind her, walking across the hall to her own bedroom, shutting the door behind her as she crawled into bed, falling into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

 

The next day was overcast, dreary, and the threat of rain hung heavy in the air. Logan drove to the Rivercourt, climbing out of the truck and stretching his long legs. He wore a pair of dark shorts the Oakland Raiders had sent him, and a gray t-shirt from the New England Patriots. All of the NFL wanted a piece of Logan Evans, and he and his dad were in deep discussion about which offer he should accept, because Clay just knew that once draft day rolled around, Logan would be getting a ton of calls. He looked around, finally spotting her, sitting at the top of the bleachers, turned around backwards.

Even though the day was overcast, it was still hot, but she wore a long-sleeved white t-shirt with her shorts. Her curly hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her shoes were sitting on the bleacher beside her. Logan smiled, leaving his keys in the truck, sliding his phone into his pocket as he walked across the court, up the bleachers. She didn't move as he sat down beside her, on the opposite side than her shoes, and rested his arms on the railing, the same way she was doing. They just sat there for the longest time, neither one saying a word, until Sawyer turned her head to look at him. He gave her a smile, and she returned it, but just barely. She took in a deep breath, then spoke quietly.

"I don't know how it happened. How I got to be this person I don't even like."

Logan didn't say anything, and Sawyer took a deep, ragged breath. She reached back and tightened her ponytail, still staring out at the river.

"I went to a party the night Davis and I broke up. Well, when I broke up with him. I wasn't … I mean, I didn't—"

She blew out her breath.

"I don't know what I'm trying to say."

Logan smiled, reaching over and squeezing Sawyer's hand.

"Just say it. Relax, Saw. It's just me. We've talked before."

Sawyer snorted.

"Not like this."  
"First time for everything."

She smiled, nodding her head, glancing back out at the river.

"I was so mad. At Davis, for leaving. At myself, for being so mad at him. But the person I was really angry at … is Lydia. And yes, I say 'is' because to be completely honest, I'm still pissed off at her."

She stood up, letting go of Logan's hand.

"I don't understand myself here. She's sick. I know that. She has been for a while. I know that, too. But Logan …"

She turned to face him, tears pooling in her eyes.

"I am so incredibly pissed off at her."

Logan stood up, and Sawyer waved him back, taking a step back herself.

"How could she do what she did? How could she be so selfish as to think dying was her only option? Did she even think about us? Did she even care? How do you get to that point? How did we let her get to that point?"  
"Sawyer."  
"I just keep thinking, you know, what if it was me? What if I was the reason she did what she did? I mean, I was so wrapped up in Davis and cheering and stupid shit that doesn't even matter, and I couldn't see that my best friend was suffering as badly as she was."

Tears were rolling down Sawyer's cheeks, but she paid them no attention. The tears, however, were all Logan could see. She turned away from him, still talking, and he blinked, pushing aside the growing feelings of concern in his heart, stepping towards her. She turned back, shaking her head.

"What the hell is wrong with me that I could do that? That I could just … forget about her when she needed me the most?"  
"Stop it."

Logan reached out and gently took hold of Sawyer's arms, giving her a gentle shake.

"What happened to Lydia is not your fault."  
"Logan—"  
"I'm serious."

He gave her one more squeeze, then let go of her arms.

"Lydia …"

He pushed a hand through his hair.

"What she did … There isn't any excuse. But there isn't any blame, either."

Sawyer tilted her head towards her shoulder.

"Are you serious right now?"

She sighed, shaking her head.

"I practically cut her out of my life the second Davis and I got together."  
"What, and that set her down this path of destruction?"  
"Maybe! It certainly didn't help any."

Logan pursed his lips as he nodded.

"Well, if we're going there…"

Sawyer narrowed her eyes at him, and Logan sat back down on the bleachers, slowly rubbing his hands together, eyes watching his hands. Sawyer walked back over, leaning backwards onto the railing near him, and after a minute, Logan looked up, letting out a long breath as he stared out towards the river.

"When Jamie left for college, Lydia was, what? Nine? I was fifteen. She and I got pretty close during that time. I guess I was more than willing to fill in the big brother shoes. Hell, I was already playing the part with Riley. And I stuck around, you know? I didn't go off to college. I stayed here. Maybe if I would have hung around with her more; you know, like made it a point to talk to her, get coffee or just be there. But I didn't. I had more important things—what I thought were more important things on my mind."

Sawyer sat down beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Logan… This isn't your fault."

He smiled, blinking back the tears that were in his eyes.

"Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black or something like that?"

Sawyer smiled, closing her eyes for a second.

"I see what you're trying to do."  
"Is it working?"

She looked over to see his dark eyes smiling at her, and she couldn't help but smile back.

"Maybe a little."

She bumped his shoulder with her own, and Logan smiled as she leaned to rest her head on his shoulder. He took in a deep breath, catching the scent of her coconut shampoo before talking quietly.

"It's a shitty situation, kid. No matter which way you look at it, who you want to blame, who tries to take the blame."  
"My dad blames himself."

Logan glanced at his shoulder, but Sawyer kept looking straight ahead.

"If you want me to be completely honest … I guess that's part of the reason I've been partying so hard. Dad gets blitzed every night and Ellie or I have to help him to bed. I used to go dig through the cabinets and find that night's bottle, and I'd pour it down the sink. Then I thought, 'Why let it go to waste?' and I started drinking it."

Logan closed his eyes as her voice got very small.

"It's to the point where it's nothing for me to polish off a fourth of a fifth."  
"Don't tell me that."

She closed her eyes, picking her head up off his shoulder, gasping quietly when he whispered 'no,' pulling her back to his chest, wrapping his arms around her. She closed her eyes, resting her head back on his shoulder, feeling his strong arms envelope her.

"Sawyer … You don't have to do this anymore, okay? I—I don't really understand what we're going to do, but we're going to make this work. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

She nodded slowly.

"Until you're drafted, you mean."

Logan slowly let his arms fall to his sides, and Sawyer sighed as she sat up, picking her feet up on the bleacher as she turned to face him, wrapping her arms around her knees.

"Everybody wants a piece of Logan Evans these days. I think I read that in the paper. Or People magazine, maybe? Headline I saw on Sports Center, since Dad permanently has his TV set on ESPN?"

Logan sighed, pushing a hand through his hair.

"You should be proud of that, you know."

He nodded.

"Don't get me wrong, I am. I just … It's a lot. And I'm twenty-two, you know? I've got offers of multi-million dollar contracts, and I just … I just want to play ball, you know?"

Sawyer smiled.

"Yeah. You're lucky, Logan."

He leaned over, gently squeezing her ankle.

"Who knows? Maybe I'll go with the Panthers. Stick close to home."  
"The Panthers want you?"

Logan smiled, motioning to his shirt and shorts.

"Baby, everybody wants me."

Sawyer laughed.

"Yeah, but does anyone have a team big enough to fit your ego?"

Logan laid a hand over his heart, making a pained face, but laughed when Sawyer did. He leaned back as Sawyer swung her legs around, scooting closer to him, leaning back as well. She took in a deep breath, looking out over the river again.

"Maybe we can just sit here for a while."

Logan nodded.

"As long as you want. I'm good right here."

* * *

 

Sawyer walked into the house, hanging her keys on the hook beside the door. She walked into the kitchen and washed her hands, turning around and almost running into her father. She jumped, laying a hand over her heart.

"God, Dad. Make some noise next time."

Lucas smiled a tiny smile, bypassing Sawyer and going to the refrigerator. Sawyer bit her lip as she watched Lucas pull out a beer.

"Hey—Hey Dad?"

Lucas twisted the top off his beer, turning it up and taking a swallow. He glanced back at Sawyer, who sighed.

"Dad, it's … It's kind of early for that, don't you think?"

Lucas held her gaze for a moment before he took another drink, reaching back into the refrigerator and getting another beer, carrying it with him into the living room. Sawyer closed her eyes, hanging her head as she walked to her room. She walked over to her bed, laying down on her side, pulling her pillow to her chest and letting out a long sigh. She heard a knock at her door and she looked up, to see Ellie standing there.

"Hey."

Sawyer gave her a smile, then went back to looking at her wall. Ellie walked in, climbing onto the bed behind Sawyer and laying down. She laced her fingers together over her stomach and stared at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry, El."

Ellie closed her eyes, then opened them again.

"Sawyer—"  
"I need to. I'm just sorry for everything I put you through. No one should have to deal with that, and I forced you to do stuff you never should have done. You shouldn't have to take care of Dad and me when we're like that."  
"You shouldn't have to, either."

Sawyer blinked the tears back from her eyes and Ellie rolled over, throwing an arm over her. Sawyer squeezed her eyes shut, letting out a quiet sob, and Ellie sat up, gently running a hand through Sawyer's ponytail.

"It's okay, Sawyer."  
"No, it's not."

Ellie sighed.

"Okay, so it's not. Do you know what that means?"

Sawyer shook her head, and Ellie smiled.

"That means there's nowhere we can go but up."

Sawyer smiled at that, reaching up to wipe her eyes. She rolled onto her back, and Ellie did the same. Sawyer reached down and laced her fingers through her sister's, and Ellie gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"We're going to be okay."

Ellie nodded.

"Yeah, Saw. We're going to be okay."

Sawyer nodded, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.


	7. Everybody Hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Everybody Hurts" by R.E.M.

"Dad?"

Clay pushed a smile on his face as he looked behind him, seeing Riley standing behind the kitchen counter.

"Hey, squirt."

Riley smiled, walking over to look out the window beside her dad, easily slipping under the arm he'd held out for her. She let out a long sigh, leaning into him, resting her head just under his shoulder, because that was all she could reach. Clay let out a sigh of his own.

"You want to talk about it?"

Riley shook her head, and Clay smiled.

"Want to talk about it anyway?"

Riley smiled, and Clay gently patted her back, kissing the top of her head as they walked to the barstools by the counter. Riley hopped up onto one, and Clay sat beside her. Riley glanced out the window, then back over to Clay.

"Can we get a dog?"

Clay blinked.

"What?"  
"You heard me, Dad. You're not that old."  
"Hey!"  
"I think we need a dog."

Clay was still smarting from the old comment, but he let that slide.

"Where did this come from?"

Riley shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know. I just think we need a dog. We've got this big house, and that big backyard, and a dog would do great around here, don't you think? And we … we could all go pick one out together. Me, you, Mom, Logan, and Ly—"

Riley's blue eyes went wide as she closed her mouth. She stared down at the floor as Clay closed his eyes.

"Riles, hey."  
"I can't believe I just …"  
"Hey, it's okay, honey. We—"  
"It's not. It's not okay, Dad. It will never—God."

She stood up, hurrying from the kitchen. Clay stood up, calling after her as the front door opened and his wife walked in. She set the bag of groceries down on the counter as Clay walked in, hands folded together behind his head. Quinn blinked at him.

"Everything okay?"

Clay smiled.

"Oh yeah. Goddamn world's falling to pieces, but sure. We're fine."  
"What? Clay."

He walked over, opening one of the French doors leading to the backyard, then slammed it shut behind him. Quinn closed her eyes, resting her forehead on her hands before standing up and putting the groceries away. As she closed the refrigerator door, she let out a yelp, laying a hand over her heart.

"Jesus, Logan. Have you been taking lessons from Davis? Don't sneak up on me like that."

Logan smiled, glancing at the floor.

"Sorry, Mom."

Quinn smiled, never really tiring of hearing him call her that. She glanced over, realizing he hadn't said anything else, and caught him staring at the ground.

"Logan?"

Dark eyes were wide for just a moment as he turned to her, before he blinked.

"Yeah?"  
"What is it?"

He blinked again.

"What?"

She smiled, handing him a bag of chips and motioning to the cabinet he was standing beside.

"There's something on your mind. After living with you for nearly twenty years, I can tell."

Logan smiled, sliding the chips onto a shelf, reaching back for the cookies Quinn handed him.

"You got me."  
"So what is it?"

Logan sighed, and when the last of the groceries were put away, he walked to the living room. Quinn followed him, taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch from him. She tucked her feet under her as she sat, and Logan leaned over, resting his forearms on his knees. He took in a deep breath, then glanced over at her.

"You know how I've been hanging out with Sawyer more?"

Quinn nodded.

"Do we need to talk about that?"  
"Jesus, Mom. No. She's barely seventeen. I'm not hanging out with her because I want … No. She's my friend and we're both going through an unbelievably shitty time, and—Sorry."

Quinn closed her eyes as she smiled.

"Go on."  
"Anyway, she's been talking to me, and I … I really think you and Dad should go see Lucas."

Logan stood up then, and Quinn watched him as he paced slowly, pushing a hand through his hair.

"Sawyer, she … She's so mad at him. She doesn't want to talk about him. Shuts down when I try to bring it up. But Ellie … She'll talk to me. Mom, he—he gets drunk every night. And it's not just a buzz. He gets falling down, passed out drunk every single night, and he's done it ever since … Well, you know."

Quinn closed her eyes, letting out a long sigh. Logan spoke again, quietly.

"I just think you should go talk to him."

Quinn nodded, holding out a hand until Logan saw it and grasped it as he sat next to her. Quinn smiled, reaching over to run her other hand through Logan's sandy blonde hair.

"My big-hearted boy."

Logan smiled, letting out a breath. Quinn nodded again.

"Let me get your dad, see what we can do."

Logan nodded, leaning over to kiss Quinn's cheek. She squeezed his hand before letting it go, and they both stood up.

"Maybe you could go check on your sister, though."

Logan nodded.

"I'll get her, you get Dad."  
"As per usual."

Logan laughed quietly as he turned to jog up the stairs. Quinn sighed, walking towards the back doors. She opened them, breathing in deeply the summer air. She glanced around, knowing exactly what she was looking for and where it would be. This time, though, was not what she was expecting.

"Clay?"

He was crouched down, one arm resting on his knee. He turned his head, looking at his wife for a moment before turning his attention back to where it had been, on the destroyed remains of the hammock that used to hang between the two trees in the corner of the backyard. Quinn stepped forward, searching for the words.

"What … Did you—you're bleeding."

Clay looked down, at the bleeding, shredded skin of his palms. He shrugged his shoulders, and Quinn knelt down, taking Clay's hand, holding tight when he tried to pull out of her grip. She gently pulled pieces of string from the hammock, pieces of bark from the trees out of Clay's skin. He hissed a couple of times, but mainly stayed quiet, shifting to sit on the ground instead of staying crouched down like he had been. Quinn dropped his hand, standing up and walking to his other side, where she knelt down and repeated the process with his other hand. When she was done, Clay looked down at his hands, staring at them as he spoke quietly.

"She's not getting better, Q."  
"Clay…"  
"No, I …"

He took in a breath, letting it out slowly. He looked over to the trees, narrowing his eyes.

"This was supposed to make her better. Remember that? How Jenny insisted that the rehab facility was our only option?"

Quinn nodded, looking down at the grass under her knees. She shut her eyes at the sound of Clay's voice, sharp and cold.

"She's not getting better. If anything, she's worse. It's July, Quinn. This will be the sixth month she's been at that godforsaken place, and all the news we get is that she's fucking catatonic."

He pushed himself to his feet, not even registering the pain that shot through his scraped-up hands. He shook his head, looking down at Quinn as she brought her now-tear-filled eyes to his.

"I'm done. Do you hear me? I am done."  
"Clay."  
"No, I'm serious. Her birthday's in a few days, and I will be damned if I'll leave her there alone for her birthday. I am going to go get her and I will bring her back with me, and we will figure something else out."

Quinn opened her mouth, but knew there was nothing she could say when Clay stalked past her, slamming the door behind him as he walked into the kitchen.

* * *

 

Brooke glanced up as the door to her shop opened. A smile crossed her face as Sawyer stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

"Hello, gorgeous."

Sawyer didn't smile, or roll her eyes the way she usually did, and Brooke took the glasses off her face.

"What's wrong?"

Sawyer shook her head, looking away, and Brooke quickly walked around the counter. She stopped in front of Sawyer, noticing the way the girl was trembling, the tears forming in her suddenly-wide blue eyes.

"Sawyer, hey. Look at me. Hey."

She did, for just a second, blue eyes wide and blinking before she looked back down. Brooke gently touched Sawyer's arms, gently running her hands up and down.

"Honey, what? What is it?"

Sawyer finally lifted her eyes to Brooke's, taking in a sharp breath.

"Aunt Brooke … He left."  
"Who did, sweetheart?"

Sawyer glanced around, as if she'd never been in the store before. Brooke gently squeezed her arms again.

"Who left, honey?"

Sawyer blinked, then again, before bringing her eyes to Brooke's.

"My dad."

Brooke's dark eyes went wide.

"What?"

Sawyer shrugged her shoulders.

"He left. He left, and I … I don't know where he went. But I … I don't think he's coming back."

Brooke let out a breath before she took the now-sobbing girl into her arms. She gently stroked Sawyer's hair, holding her as she cried, as Brooke tried to overcome her own shock. After a while, she was able to lead Sawyer over to the stool behind the counter, and she hurried over to flip her " _Open_ " sign to the " _Closed_ " side. She came back, kneeling in front of Sawyer, laying her hands on Sawyer's knees. Sawyer slowly brought her eyes to her aunt's, who gave her a tiny smile.

"Talk to me, sweetheart."

Sawyer shook her head.

"I don't … I heard them fighting this morning. Mom and Dad. She said she wasn't going to put up with it anymore. That it was the booze or us, and I guess we can guess what his choice was."

Brooke covered her mouth with her hand.

"Honey, I—"  
"Don't. Don't say you're … No."

Sawyer pushed away from her, standing up and walking away, around the counter. Brooke stood up, searching for something to say, when the door to her store flung open.

"Thank God."

Brooke's mouth opened as Logan Evans walked in, over to Sawyer, taking her in his arms. Sawyer closed her eyes before slowly looping her arms around him. Logan shook his head.

"Peyton's freaking out. She didn't know where you went. You shouldn't have driven over here. You scared us all, Sawyer. Thank God you're okay."

Brooke's eyes went wide as Sawyer tucked her face near Logan's neck, and he closed his eyes as he held her. Brooke slowly stepped backwards, until she was in the office, and she immediately grabbed her phone, calling her best friend.

"P. Scott, I've got your girl."  
_"Brooke—"_  
"Don't. I'll be there in ten minutes, okay?"

Peyton couldn't speak through her tears, but Brooke nodded.

"Just hang on."

In the middle of the store, Logan was slowly dragging his hand up and down Sawyer's spine. She was crying, her tears soaking his neck, and he just kept his eyes closed as he held her. After what seemed like forever, she took a step back, wiping her hands over her eyes.

"I'm so—"  
"Don't apologize. It's fine."

She sniffled, crossing her arms over her stomach. Logan cleared his throat as he stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Riley came tearing down the stairs, telling me that Ellie had texted her and we needed to get to her. I drove over to your house, and your mom ran onto the porch, telling me that she thought you were in shock, but you'd left, and she had no idea where you'd gone. You wouldn't answer your phone, so I just drove."

Sawyer nodded, speaking softly.

"I'm sorry I worried you."  
"I'm just glad you're all right."

She nodded again, bringing her eyes up to his. Tears filled her eyes again, and Logan took a step towards her, stepping back when Brooke walked back into the room. She slipped her purse onto her shoulder, then looked to Sawyer.

"Let's go."  
"I want to ride with Logan."

Brooke stopped for a moment, just blinking before she nodded, and as Sawyer turned to get her purse, Logan stepped to Brooke, whispering under his breath.

"What's going on?"

Brooke sighed, watching Sawyer, whispering back.

"I'm not 100% sure. We'll find out in a little bit. Just get her home?"

Logan nodded, following Brooke out the door, keeping Sawyer in front of him, helping her into his truck. He turned the radio off as he drove, glancing over at Sawyer while she stared out the window. He finally cleared his throat.

"Saw?"

She took in a deep breath, letting it out in a shudder.

"Logan, my dad left. Just … walked out."

Without even thinking, he reached across the seat, taking her hand in his as Sawyer began to cry again. She shook her head as she looked out the window again.

"He always—always promised that he'd never leave, and he … He just left."  
"Sawyer."

She didn't look at him. She couldn't. But when he stopped at a stop sign, she unbuckled her seatbelt, sliding across the seat to lay her head against Logan's shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her as he took the turn onto her street, and she cried as he pulled into the driveway. Brooke was right behind them, and Logan turned the truck off, motioning for Brooke to go ahead. He watched as she walked into the house without knocking, and he turned to embrace Sawyer fully.

"Saw…"  
"Don't. Just … not yet."

He nodded, rubbing his hand up and down her back. After a few minutes, she leaned back, letting out a shuddering breath, and Logan reached to tuck a wayward curl behind her ear. Sawyer took in a breath, looking directly into Logan's dark eyes.

Neither one is entirely sure what happened then. But the next thing either one knew, their lips were pressed together in a gentle kiss. Sawyer's eyes flew open as she moved back, her face growing red as she lifted a hand to her mouth.

"Oh, god. Logan, I—"

He started to open his mouth, and Sawyer scrambled from the truck, running inside the house. Logan lifted a hand to his lips, letting out a groan before he let his head fall to the steering wheel. After a few minutes, and a serious internal discussion of just driving back home, Logan climbed out of the truck, walking up the front steps and into the house.

"She's in her room."

Logan smiled as he looked over at Brooke, who was drying dishes and sliding them into the cabinet.

"Thanks."  
"Oh, no problem. Is there a reason why she ran in here like a bat out of hell earlier?"

Logan pursed his lips, feeling his face heat up. He cleared his throat.

"I'll, uh … go check on her."  
"An excellent deflection of my question, Mr. Evans."

Logan felt his face burn even more as he left the kitchen to walk down the hall. Peyton passed him as she walked out of Ellie's room, but they didn't speak. She just made her way to the kitchen and sat down on one of the barstools. Brooke turned to her as she slid the last of the cups into the cabinet.

"Brooke, you didn't have to do that."  
"I know. But it's too late to bitch now, so…"

Peyton smiled, a quick upturn of her lips that was gone nearly as soon as it appeared. Brooke sighed, walking over to lean over the counter. Peyton swallowed, staring at the countertop as she spoke.

"I don't know how to do this, Brooke. I don't know what to do."

Brooke nodded.

"I know. Just … Just try not to let it consume your life. Take care of your girls. Focus on them for a while."  
"But how do I … I mean, he just left. I'm pretty sure he was drunk already, but Brooke…"  
"Hey."

Peyton looked up, tears rolling down her cheeks. Brooke gave her a soft smile.

"Do you remember what you told me during everything with Julian?"

Peyton shook her head, and Brooke reached over, taking Peyton's hand in her own.

"We'll get through this. I don't know when, and I don't know how, but we will get through this."

Peyton nodded, her face scrunching up as the tears began to flow harder. Brooke sighed, letting go of Peyton's hand and walking around the counter to take her best friend in her arms.

* * *

 

Logan gently knocked on the door, poking his head in.

"Sawyer?"

She didn't answer, so he took another step into the room.

"Saw, you in here?"

Still no answer. Logan glanced around the bedroom, rich red walls, unmade bed near the window, messy desk against the wall. He smiled at the photos tacked onto the wall, of Sawyer and Lydia, Sawyer and Ellie, Sawyer and her parents. He took in a breath, glancing around the room.

"I know you didn't climb out the window, so you've got to be here somewhere."  
"Yes, you idiot. Jeez."

Logan turned at that, looking towards the closet, and the door slowly opened. He walked over, taking hold of the clothes and pushing them back, to reveal Sawyer with her back against the corner, knees drawn up to her chest. She looked up at him with sad blue eyes.

"Hi."

Logan smiled.

"Hi. Scoot over."

Sawyer rolled her eyes, but she did, and Logan let out a groan as he sat on the floor. Sawyer looped her arms around her knees, staring at the darkness underneath her bed. Logan was quiet for a moment, bending his right leg up, letting his arm rest on his knee. Sawyer took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. She went to open her mouth and Logan spoke.

"This doesn't have to be weird, you know."

He let out a laugh, at the way the curls bounced as she whipped her head around to stare at him. He looked over at her, keeping the smile on his face.

"I'm serious."  
"Logan, we—"  
"I know. I was there, remember?"

Her cheeks were on fire, and Logan just smiled.

"It doesn't have to be weird, Sawyer. We can …"  
"Just pretend like it never happened?"

Logan couldn't deny the pain that shot through his heart at her quiet question. He didn't want to pretend like it never happened. Hell, he wanted it to happen again. He glanced her way, seeing her eyes staring at him, and he pushed a smile onto his face.

"Yeah. Sure. If that's what you want."

Sawyer nodded, looking forward. Was that what she wanted? No. No, she didn't think that was what she wanted at all. She looked back at him, a small smile appearing on her face.

"I think that would be best."

Logan nodded, holding out a hand, and Sawyer put her hand in his. They both glanced away, each closing their eyes for just a moment before Logan let go of her hand, pushing to his feet. He reached up, stretching his arms, and Sawyer glanced away from the strip of hard-muscled skin that showed as his shirt rode up. He sighed as he let his arms fall and held out a hand, and Sawyer smiled as she laid her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. She gasped quietly as Logan pulled her to his chest and easily wrapped his arms around her.

"Logan."  
"Just …"

He sighed, and she closed her eyes, putting her arms around him.

 _"Logan."_  
"I'm right here."

She couldn't stop the tears that came, and she put her face in Logan's shoulder. He sighed when he felt her tears soaking through his shirt, but he just held her tighter.

* * *

 

"Do you think I could have stopped it?"

Brooke set her coffee mug down on the table and turned on the couch to look at Peyton. She was sitting at the opposite end of the couch, staring out the window, one hand on her mouth. Brooke sighed, reaching her hands up to fluff her hair.

"Honestly? No."  
"I knew he was drinking, Brooke. I knew, and I didn't say anything. I didn't do anything."  
"Peyton—"  
"He stopped sleeping in the bed with me. Stopped writing. Stopped everything except sitting in that damn chair and drinking."

Brooke didn't say anything, and after taking a ragged breath, Peyton continued.

"I think … I don't know what to think."  
"Peyton—"

Brooke stopped as her phone began to ring. She reached over to the table, picking her phone up and putting it to her ear.

"Hello?"  
_"Hey, Brooke."_

She stood up off the couch as Peyton looked out the window again. Brooke walked into the kitchen, speaking quietly.

"Any news?"

Owen sighed from the other side of the phone.

_"No. I've looked all over town. Brooke, I don't know where he is. He hasn't checked into any hotels that I know of. He's not in any of the bars."_

Brooke closed her eyes.

"Owen, please—"  
_"I'm not going to stop looking for him until I find him or someone else does. I just wanted to let you know where we stand right now. And I just wanted to hear your voice."_

Brooke smiled.

"Thanks for the heads-up."  
_"We're going to find him, Brooke."_

She nodded, and Owen ended the call. She let out a breath, typing out a text to her son. As she expected, Jude texted right back. No news from his end, either. He was picking Meg up and bringing her to Brooke before he went out looking again. Brooke texted him back, walking into the living room, sitting next to Peyton again. But this time, Peyton moved over, laying her head on Brooke's lap. Brooke sighed, running her fingers through Peyton's hair.

* * *

 

It was hot, too damn hot to be walking around in the heat, searching for someone who obviously didn't want to be found. Jude had been able to hide his feelings while he picked up his sister, listening to her chatter in the backseat until he pulled up to the Scott house. Meg had gone quiet, and her voice had been a whisper when she spoke again.

"Why are we at Aunt Peyton's?"  
"Mom's here."  
"Why? Is everything okay?"

Jude had sighed, turning around in his seat, leaving his sunglasses on.

"Just go on in and find Mom. She'll explain it to you."

Meg's dark eyes had grown wide, her face pale.

"Did something bad happen again?"

Jude had been quick to shake his head.

"No, no. Nothing like … nothing like before. Mom can explain it to you better than I can, okay?"

Meg had been quiet, nodding her head as she unbuckled her seatbelt. Jude swallowed against the lump in his throat, seeing how little his sister suddenly seemed.

"Hey, Megan?"

She had looked over at him as she slid across the seat, opening the door. Jude had pushed a smile on his face.

"I love you."

She had smiled, the little dimples she'd gotten from their mother appearing in her cheeks.

"I love you too, Jude."

He felt the fire begin to burn low in his belly as he watched her walk up the steps, pushing the front door open without knocking on it. He'd driven away with the music turned off, his phone sitting in the cupholder next to him, and anger pushing at the edges of his very being.

Now, he was beyond angry and starting to inch right past pissed the hell off. He was mad as hell at Lucas for being so damn stupid, and this whole situation was bringing up thoughts and memories that he had tried his best to keep hidden for the last six years. He drove for a while, hoping that would help him let off some steam, but it didn't. He thought about heading back to the house, but as he pulled up to the heavy gate, something told him to go inside. He shook his head.

"I swear to God, Lucas…"

Jude sighed, turning the car off and climbing out, locking it as he shoved the keys in his pockets. He looked up, shaking his head again as he entered the gate, under the letters that spelled out TREE HILL CEMETERY. He didn't say anything, just slid his hands in his pockets as he stepped over grave markers, made his way around headstones. He shook his head as he walked past Dan Scott's giant eyesore of a headstone, coming to a quick stop.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Jude didn't mean to say it as loud as he did. Oh, who was he kidding? Yes, he did. And he felt another bit of anger roll through him when Lucas Scott looked up from where he was sitting on the ground, bloodshot eyes bleary as he blinked at Jude.

"You know we've been looking everywhere for you? Any idea how worried your wife and daughters are?"

Lucas didn't say a word, just leaned his head back to look up at Jude, shifting against Keith Scott's headstone as he did. Jude let out a laugh.

"Do you even care?"

Still no answer, and Jude knew this was not going to end well. He nodded.

"Awesome. Well, you're a bastard. Just in case you didn't know."  
"Watch your tone."  
"He speaks."

Lucas let out a sigh, shaking his head.

"Get out of here, Jude."

Jude closed his eyes at the slurred words, gritting his teeth together.

"This is a public place, _Lucas_. I can be here just like you can. Except I won't get arrested for public drunkenness."  
"Go home, Jude."

Jude shook his head.

"No. No, I don't think I will. Not until I let you know a few things you must have forgotten."

Lucas let out a sigh, leaning back against the headstone again.

"If I wanted a lecture, kid, I would go home to my wife."

Jude shook his head, a disbelieving smile on his face. He clenched his hands together in fists by his side.

"Well, that's too damn bad. You want to know what I've been thinking about all day? Ever since Peyton called?"  
"Nope."

Jude bent down, until he was eye level with Lucas.

"All I could think of was kicking your ass when I finally found you."

Lucas let out a laugh, throwing his arms out.

"Well, here's your shot, kid. Go ahead."

Lucas lifted the bottle of Jack to his lips, jumping when Jude reached over and grabbed it from him, turning around and smashing it against the back of Dan Scott's huge headstone. Lucas blinked as he looked up, seeing Jude breathing hard, shoulders heaving as he looked at him, eyes flashing.

"You don't get to hide behind that bottle. Not now."  
"Jude—"  
"No."

Lucas went quiet at the venom in Jude's tone. Jude paced for a moment, pushing his hands through his hair, glancing at the graves close by Keith's. He spoke to Lucas, but his eyes were trained on the two headstones side-by-side just footsteps away.

"Why? I want to know why you're doing this."  
"What?"

Jude closed his eyes, speaking through clenched teeth.

"Drinking yourself to death. Walking out on your family."

Lucas snorted, and Jude whipped his head back to look at the man sprawled on the ground.

"I thought that was pretty obvious."

Jude smiled as he nodded his head, looking back to the graves.

"Lydia."

Lucas closed his eyes at the mention of her name. He took a ragged breath, lifting a hand to rub at his chest.

"I should have … I don't know. Anything."

Tears were filling his eyes, and Jude let out a broken sigh before he walked back over, squatting down in front of Lucas again.

"Let's get one thing straight, shall we?"

Lucas' eyebrows drew together as he looked into Jude's stormy eyes.

"You don't get to sit here and wallow the way that you're doing. You don't get to drown your sorrows anymore. You never should have in the first place."  
"Jude—"  
"Don't talk. Not right now. Not when it's taking everything in me to keep from beating the shit out of you."

Jude stood up, his steps slow and methodical, and Lucas could only watch. Finally, Jude turned back to look at him.

"You have no right to be acting like this. Pushing your family away, drowning in a damn bottle. You don't have any reason for doing this."  
"I don't have a reason?"

Lucas pushed to his feet, swaying and stumbling until he made his way over to Dan Scott's huge memorial. He laid a hand against it, moving to lean on it, squinting at Jude.

"Lydia is my niece. The only piece of my brother that I have left. I should have taken better care of her. I should have helped her—"  
"Yeah, but you didn't. You were too busy. All of you were too busy with yourselves and your families, but I was there. I was there for her. I helped her."  
"You shouldn't have had to. I should have been there for her."  
"And what, if you were, things would magically be different?"

Lucas shrugged his shoulders.

"We'll never know, will we? Because I was too damn selfish to worry about her."

Jude let out a groan, walking over and hitting the top of a gravestone with his fists.

"You don't have a right to act like such a damn martyr here!"

Lucas narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth to speak, but Jude shook his head.

"No. No, you … Shit."

Jude pushed his hands through his hair, feeling his heartbeat kick into a gallop.

"You can't sit there and tell me how many regrets you have. They don't matter now."  
"They matter to me. She matters to me."  
"Oh, yeah? How much? Want to know how much she matters to me?"

Jude stepped closer, finger hitting his chest with every sentence he spoke.

"I was the one she called. I was the one who kicked in the front door and ran up the stairs. I was the one who ripped the goddamn bathroom door off the hinges. I was the one who screamed her name while I reached into the ice-cold water and pulled her out of it. I was the one who ripped the shirt— _my_ shirt—that she'd worn and tied it around her wrists to stop the bleeding. I  was the one who ended up covered in her blood. God, there was so much blood. I was the one who prayed while I held her cold body in my arms, begging God not to take her from me. I was the one they took her away from in the emergency room, and I was the one she cried for when they took her to that godforsaken place."

He pushed his hands through his hair again, then turned to face Lucas.

"She didn't talk to you. She didn't cry for you. It was me. Me. She called for me, and they held me back, forced me to let her go when I promised her it was the last goddamned thing I would ever do."

Jude took in a ragged breath, shaking his head.

"You might have regrets, but you keep them to yourself. You stop the self-destruction because you have no right to do it. You can be a son of a bitch if you want, but not in her name."

Lucas just blinked as Jude turned on his heel, walking out of the cemetery. He kept his head down as he walked to the car, stopping at the passenger's side and hitting the top of the car with both hands. He grit his teeth and looked up, face falling when he saw Clay standing there, leaning up against his truck, ankles crossed, arms crossed over his chest. Jude took a deep breath as he walked around the front of the car, not looking up as he spoke.

"He's in there. Drunk off his ass, but I don't think he's going anywhere."

Jude climbed in the car, started it up, drove away as Clay watched. After a moment, Clay straightened up, sliding his hands into his pockets as he walked through the cemetery. He sighed when he looked up, when he saw Lucas sitting on Jimmy Edwards' grave. Lucas looked up, letting out a sigh, and Clay held up his hands.

"Luke."  
"Clay."  
"You still drunk?"

Lucas looked down, smiling softly.

"Not as much anymore. Not nearly as much as I'd like to be."

Clay nodded, walking over and kneeling down, brushing dead grass and leaves away from the two headstones he never imagined would be there, much too close together.

"I promised them, you know?"

Clay glanced back, seeing Lucas' eyes trained on the graves Clay was knelt beside.

"I promised them I'd watch out for her, take care of her, and I … I failed."

Clay sighed, glancing back down, first at Nathan's grave, then to Haley's.

"We all did, Luke. Not just you."  
"He was my brother, Clay."  
"And he was the closest thing I had to one."

Clay stood up, brushing his knees off.

"I was there when she was born. Quinn and I were with Jamie in the hospital when Haley had her. Nate came out, told us it was a girl, and Jamie was so excited he had a little sister."

Clay smiled.

"I videoed the first time she rolled over. I was there when she said 'Da-da' for the first time. She crawled to me countless times, reaching her chubby little hands out for me."

Clay sighed, running a hand over his face.

"I still remember when Haley got the call. Quinn called me, frantic, and I flew over to the hospital. He was gone by the time I got there. But I … I don't know, I had to get some closure. I walked into that room and held his hand, cried as I told him I'd take care of them. His family."

A sad smile crossed his face.

"And I let him down not once, but twice."

Clay sighed again, feeling so much older than his 45 years. He looked to Lucas.

"We both fucked up. The trick is not to do it again. We have to make it right."  
"How?"

Clay smiled again.

"First, we need to dry you out. Then you need to go and beg forgiveness from your wife and your girls."

Lucas nodded.

"And Lydia?"

Clay nodded back.

"I'm working on that."

* * *

 

Sawyer sat on the edge of her bed, shaking her head. Peyton let out another sigh, and Ellie bit her lip between them. Sawyer shook her head again.

"So, what? He says he's sorry and he just gets to come home?"  
"Honey, it's … it's not that simple."  
"Really? Because it kind of sounds like it is."

Ellie sighed, reaching out a hand.

"Saw—"  
"Don't."

Sawyer shrugged off her sister's hand, and Ellie sighed, exchanging a glance with her mother. Peyton took in a breath.

"Sawyer, he—"  
"He walked out, Mom. He left us."  
"It was just a day, Saw."  
"Ellie, that doesn't matter! He left! I can't just welcome him back with open arms and pretend like nothing happened."  
"That's not what we're asking, honey."

Sawyer looked to her mother and shook her head again.

"I don't want him here, Mom."  
"Sawyer Brooke!"

Sawyer stood up.

"He walked away from us. From his family that he professes to love so much. Do you remember when Uncle Julian left? I do. Do you remember the nightmares I used to have, about our family being split up like Aunt Brooke's was? Do you remember what Dad promised me, way back then? Because I do."

Tears were in her eyes, sliding down her cheeks, but her voice was strong.

"He promised me that he would never, ever walk away from us. He promised he wouldn't let us go without a fight, no matter what the situation was."

She smiled then, a wild, sad smile.

"But he did. He proved that people don't do anything but lie. Lie and leave. You were right, Mom. People always leave."  
"Sawyer—"  
"No. I … I can't be here. I don't want to be here if he is."  
"Just take a second and breathe, honey."

Peyton took Sawyer by the shoulders, forcing her to be still. The breaths were heaving in and out of her chest. Tears were slipping down her cheeks and her entire body was trembling. Peyton laid her hands against Sawyer's cheeks.

"Easy, kid. Calm down."

Sawyer took a few deep breaths, continuing to tremble.

"How can you just let him come back like nothing happened, Mom?"

Peyton let out a sigh.

"It's not like that, honey. It isn't going to be like nothing happened. This is something we're going to have to work through."

Sawyer nodded.

"I'm so mad at him."

Peyton smiled.

"I know, baby. I'm pretty mad at him, too. But we are going to get through this. I promise you."

Sawyer nodded, and Peyton leaned forward, placing a kiss against Sawyer's forehead. Sawyer let out a sigh.

"I still don't want to be here today. Please, Mama."

Peyton took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Sawyer spoke quietly.

"Can I stay with Aunt Brooke? Just for tonight?"

After a moment, Peyton sighed.

"Call her and ask."

Ellie rolled her eyes on the bed as Sawyer turned away, dialing a number on her phone.

"You know she'll say yes. She always does for her favorite."

Peyton laughed, stepping over to ruffle Ellie's hair.

"She doesn't have favorites."  
"You're lying, Mom. But I still love you."

Peyton laughed again, putting an arm around Ellie. Sawyer turned back and smiled, holding up her phone.

"She said yes."

Ellie raised her eyebrows, holding out her hands.

"I don't want to say I told you so, but…"

Peyton let out another laugh, shaking her head. Sawyer grabbed a bag and threw some clothes in, stopped to give her mother a kiss on the cheek, then walked out. Ellie took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, and Peyton leaned over, giving Ellie a kiss on the cheek.

"Come on, little one."

Ellie nodded, walking over to stand right beside her mother, and Peyton smiled as she wrapped an arm around her, bending to kiss the top of her head. Ellie stopped, looking up at her mother.

"It's going to be okay, right, Mama?"

Peyton sighed, moving to wrap Ellie in her arms.

"Yeah, honey. It's going to be okay."

* * *

 

Logan stepped out of the shower, letting out a long sigh as he wrapped a towel around his waist. He walked to the mirror, taking his time as he shaved his face. He dressed in the athletic shorts the New England Patriots had sent him, shaking his head as he slid the matching soft gray t-shirt over his head. He walked down the stairs, narrowing his eyes when he saw his dad on the couch with a beer in his hand. Logan glanced around, then walked over, sitting beside Clay on the couch. Clay lifted the beer to his son, and Logan just smiled.

"Where's Mom?"  
"I figured you'd come asking when you didn't smell any food."

Logan smiled again as he shrugged his shoulders, and Clay took a drink before he answered.

"Q decided she and Riley needed a break. Kid had a hell of a day, you know?"

Logan nodded, and Clay fiddled with the label on his beer.

"She rented them a hotel room over in Wilmington. They'll be back tomorrow, but probably not until late."

Logan nodded again.

"They do need a break."  
"We all do, son."

Logan let out a breath, opening his mouth, only to be cut off by his father.

"I was thinking of ordering a pizza, but I'm open to suggestion."

Logan smiled.

"I'm all for some pizza."

Clay laughed.

"That's what I figured. But you get to order it."  
"Like I was expecting anything else?"

Clay laughed again, shaking his head. Logan pulled up the app on his phone, ordering the pizza he usually did when he and Clay were left to their own devices for food. Clay walked back into the living room, handing a beer to Logan, who smiled.

"Thanks, Dad. Especially since you sprang for delivery."

Clay just shook his head, twisting the cap off his beer. Logan went to do the same, but his phone chimed with a text. He set the beer aside as he pulled the phone out, feeling his heart drop.

"Logan?"

Logan glanced over, dark eyes wide.

"You okay?"  
"I, uh… yeah. Yeah, I'm—I'm fine. I just …"

He stood up, and Clay watched as Logan walked behind the couch, holding the phone up to his ear. After a moment, he spoke quietly.

"Damn it."  
"What's wrong?"

Logan looked over to the couch, swallowing.

"Um…"

Clay sighed.

"You don't have to tell me."  
"I just … I'm not sure what's going on."  
"Do you need to go?"

Logan glanced at his phone, then let out a sigh.

"I'll be ten minutes, tops."

Clay nodded.

"I'll save you some pizza."

Logan smiled.

"Thanks, Dad."

He grabbed his keys, dialing his phone again as he made his way outside.

* * *

 

"You're sure you saw her here?"

The girl rolled her eyes, motioning with the red cup in her hand, spilling most of the contents.

"Uh-huh. I haven't seen her at a party in like a week or two, but she was totally here tonight. I think … Hey Britt?"

Logan closed his eyes as a dark-haired girl stumbled over to the blonde he was talking to. The blonde took another sip from her cup, then spoke.

"You saw Sawyer, didn't you?"

Britt nodded her head.

"Yeah, she grabbed the bottle of rum and took off with it. I don't know where she went, though."  
"Shit."

Logan ran his hand over his face, thanking the girls before he walked away. He pulled his phone from his pocket, looking at the text he'd received earlier that had made his heart sink.

 _Guess I'm not strong enough after all. I'm sorry, Logan_.

"Please be here. Come on, kid. Please, Sawyer."

He walked through the crowd of people, walking until he looked around, noticing he was alone. He kept walking, glancing around, finally coming to a break in the line of trees. He walked a few more steps, stopping in his tracks when he saw her, curled up on the ground on her side, an empty bottle of rum at her feet.

"Sawyer? Hey. Sawyer?"

He knelt beside her, taking her in his arms.

"Oh, God, no. Sawyer. Hey."

She was cold, and her lips were turning blue as he took her limp body in his arms. He put his ear to her mouth, letting out a breath of relief when he felt her slow, shallow breath through her cold lips against his ear. Logan leaned back, one big hand cupping Sawyer's cold face. He shook her gently.

"Come on, kid. Don't do this."

He bent his head again, making sure she was still breathing, then leaned back again, taking hold of her chin and shaking while he called her name.

"Sawyer! Open your eyes. Come on, Saw."

He gently slapped her cheek, and she let out a moan.

"There we go. Come on, babe. Open your eyes for me."

She slowly blinked, her blue eyes bloodshot and dilated as she met Logan's eyes. He let out a breath.

"Damn it, Sawyer. You scared the shit out of me."

She didn't say anything, and Logan turned her over just in time, as she threw up onto the ground. He held her up with one arm, pushing his other hand through his hair. She was crying when she finally stopped vomiting, but before he could say anything, she passed out. Logan shook his head.

"I could just strangle you right now."

He stood up, carrying Sawyer close to his chest. Her head lolled forward, landing on his shoulder, and he focused on her much-too-slow breaths against his neck as he carried her to the truck. He settled her into the passenger's seat, cupping her cold face in his hands.

"Come on, baby. Open your eyes for me again. Wake up, Sawyer."

Her head lolled forward, and Logan squeezed his eyes shut. He pushed a hand through his hair, then pulled his phone from his pocket. He tried to calm himself down, but his heart was pounding, breaths coming too fast, hurting his chest.

 _"Hello?"_  
"Dad. I need—I need your help."


	8. My Immortal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "My Immortal" by Evanesence

_**LYDIA** _

I can't do this.

I just can't do this anymore.

All day long, I just sit. In my room or down the hall, or in the doctor's office, on that stupid, uncomfortable couch, I just sit. I stare, out the windows, or at the pictures on the walls. This one time, I stared at the nurse for so long she finally got up and left the room.

That was funny. I can't remember if I smiled or not.

It's gotten to the point that I don't even want to go home anymore. I mean, I do, but I'm so terrified that it won't be like it was before or that everyone will look at me like I'm that poor little girl whose mother killed herself. Except, they already look at me like that. They have for my whole life, and I just now discovered it.

I hate her.

Haley, I mean. For what she did. It was so stupid, so cowardly, but at the same time, I get it. I really do. That suffocating feeling of "it's never going to get better, it's never going to change." That's why I did it. Because I felt like I had lost every single thing that ever meant anything to me and I was worthless and that would never, ever change.

I hate my mother. But I miss her so much. I wish she were here right now. I don't know why, but whenever I picture her, I see this woman about my height, soft, curly hair shades lighter than mine, almost a honey-reddish blonde that drifts to her shoulders, with soft, dark eyes. She smiles, but never showing her teeth. And I imagine her coming over and holding me, letting me crawl into her lap, even as long as my legs are, and she strokes my hair. Sometimes she would sing, but most of the time, it's just me and her, sitting in silence. Whenever I look up at her, she's smiling that smile back at me, and somehow, I just know everything will be all right.

Except she's not here. She left me, by her own choice.

I miss Jude. He could hold me and make me feel safe, make me feel like everything truly would be okay. Even though I knew it could never, ever be okay, Jude had a way of making me feel like it would.

And how did I repay him? I called him, so he could be the one to find me. I wonder if he has nightmares about it the way I do. I wish I could call him and ask him, but I can't. I still can't talk, and it makes no sense to me. I've given up on trying. I've given up on just about everything. Isn't that what got me here in the first place?

I have twenty-six green pills stored up under my bed. I stopped taking them because of the nightmares they gave me. Along with the night sweats and the constant nausea. I can't exactly go up to the nurse and say "Hey, those pills are whack, can you give me something else?" so I just don't take them. I pretend to, and then I slip the pill underneath my mattress. I thought about pretending to be the princess with the pea, but then I remembered that I can't feel anything anymore, so why even bother?

I'm going to be seventeen tomorrow. For all the people who say I'm so much like my mother, let's have a little history lesson, shall we?

Mom: By age seventeen, Haley had been married, gone on tour around the country with Chris Keller, survived a school shooting, remarried my father, and discovered she was pregnant with my brother.

Me: By age seventeen, Lydia had tried to kill herself and was forced into a mental institution.

So much alike, right?

* * *

 

_**JUDE** _

My writing is all over this page, because I can't stop shaking. I just woke up in a cold sweat from the worst nightmare I can remember. I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to write about it.

But I can't keep it inside.

It was the same old nightmare that it always is. It's me, breaking down the door, running up the stairs, breaking down the bathroom door, and finding Lydia, lying lifelessly in the tub. As always, I pull her out, scream her name, try to get her to open her eyes as I try and find something to stop the bleeding. There's so much blood, always so much blood.

This time, though, her eyes were open. She was staring at me, begging me to help her. I was trying, but everything was so far away, just out of reach. She kept saying that she didn't want to die, to please help her. And I couldn't. She said that she loved me, and her head slipped off my shoulder from where I'd been holding her. I felt her breath against my neck, then … Nothing.

I woke up shaking, in this cold sweat, with her name stuck in my throat. I made it to the bathroom before I threw up, and I sat there for the longest time, lying on the cold floor, shaking so hard.

I can't do this anymore.

I can't have nightmares anymore like this. I can't muddle through my day, playing the part everyone wants to see, then sit with that damn therapist and spill my guts. If I have to hear her say 'And how does that make you feel' one more time, I swear to God, I'll knock her teeth down her throat.

I didn't use to be such a violent person.

I need Lydia. I think she's my anchor. The one who helps me remember who I am, who grounds me. With just a smile, she could make me feel like everything is okay, and if it wasn't, staring into her beautiful navy blue eyes made me feel like it would be.

I've never gone six months without seeing her. I've never wanted to. I certainly didn't want to in this case, but I've been forced to. I can't do it anymore.

She turns seventeen in … Actually, now. It's past midnight. It's her birthday. For seventeen years now, I have seen Lydia on her birthday. In some way, shape, or form, we've been together.

I'll be damned if I miss this year. 

* * *

 

**_ LYDIA  _ **

This is it. I'm seventeen now. I guess I was praying I'd feel different somehow. Older, therefore wiser. Maybe I thought seventeen would be the magical cure and I'd suddenly wake up and feel better.

Only thing is, I haven't been able to sleep.

I can't remember the last time I slept. Well, slept and felt rested. I zone out, often, but whenever I "wake up" from that, I'm exhausted. I cannot sleep, and it's weighing me down. I'd cry, but it doesn't do any good. I'd bite my nails, but they're bitten to the quick.

There's always twenty-six pills underneath my mattress. I'm not going to do that. I won't.

I'm not Haley.

I'm not Haley.

I keep saying those words, over and over, on a loop, on repeat in my head, and maybe, just maybe, I'll start to believe it.

I'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaleyI'mnotHaley

I'm losing my mind. Please, God. Something has to change.


	9. In The Arms of the Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Angel" by Sarah McLachlan.

Sawyer slowly opened her eyes, closing them again and letting out a quiet groan as she shifted in the bed. She felt like she'd been run over by a truck. Everything in her body hurt, especially her head. She had the worst taste in her mouth, which also felt like she'd swallowed a giant cotton ball. She blinked her eyes open again, looking straight into a pair of dark eyes.

"You scared the hell out of me, Sawyer."  
"Logan?"

He hung his head, letting out a breath. He ran a hand over his face, and Sawyer realized his other hand was gently holding hers. She looked at him as he hung his head, then looked at her again. He had bags under his eyes, and he lifted his hand to scratch at his unshaven cheeks.

"What happened?"

Logan's eyes shot back to Sawyer's.

"You don't remember?"

She let out a groan as she shifted in the bed again. Logan was shushing her, standing over her as he helped her settle, moving the blankets closer to her before sitting again. She blinked her blue eyes at him, and Logan sighed, running his hand over his eyes again.

"You texted me, from some party. Scared me more than anything ever has. No, I take that back. I had the same feeling when the security guard came and got us from the stadium, led us to where Jamie and the helicopter were waiting on us to take us back to the hospital, to Lydia."

Sawyer closed her eyes, and Logan went on.

"I, uh ... I don't know how I found you. Got lucky, I guess. Some chick said she'd seen you, and I just walked until I reached the trees. Walked a little bit more, and there you were, passed out with an empty bottle of rum at your feet."

Logan shook his head.

"You didn't move when I called your name. I picked you up, and you were so cold. Limp in my arms. I … I hit you, and you woke up, threw up, passed out again. You weren't responding again, so I called my dad once I got you to the truck."  
"Oh, god."

Logan sighed.

"He met us at the pool house. Thank God Jude was there already. He called Brooke, made it seem like we were having a party here or something."  
"Jude's…?"  
"Downstairs. He's been helping us."  
"Us?"  
"Dad and me."

Sawyer closed her eyes again. When she opened them, there were tears shining there, and Logan let out a sigh as he took her hand.

"Sawyer, you can't do this again. You're going to kill yourself, and I can't … I can't handle that again."

Logan pressed his lips together, shaking his head.

"You've become one of my best friends, Sawyer. I'm not going to stand around and watch you do this to yourself. I already have to live with what Lydia's done, and I cannot do it again with you."

A tear rolled down Logan's cheek before he could wipe it away. Sawyer took in a shaky breath, then squeezed his hand.

"I'm sorry. Logan, I'm so—so sorry."

He blew out his breath as he leaned forward, helping her sit up as he took her in his arms. He squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing gentle hands up and down Sawyer's back as she cried into his chest.

* * *

 

Clay sipped a cup of coffee as he looked out the window at the pool.

_He can still feel the chill of the water as his body broke the surface. Still feel the heavy weight of his sister-in-law as he pulled her lifeless body out of the water. He can still hear Quinn screaming as he pushed Haley through the water, arm muscles straining as he lay her on the concrete, then lifted himself from the pool. He can still remember the water pouring from Haley's mouth as he performed the chest compressions. The compressions that did no good, the last-ditch effort that turned out to be worthless, a waste of time and strength, since Haley was long gone before they even woke up._

"Dad?"

Clay blinked hard, turning back. Logan stood there, a puzzled look on his face.

"What are you doing out here?"

Clay turned forward, realizing he was standing by the pool. He shook his head, then stepped backwards, away from the pool and towards his son.

"Sorry, kid. I was, uh …"

Clay shook his head, and Logan sighed, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"She's awake."

Clay nodded, taking another sip of his coffee.

"How's she doing?"

Logan shrugged his shoulders.

"She's embarrassed, I think. Can't stop crying. She keeps apologizing."

Clay smiled around his coffee cup, at the way Logan kept rubbing at the back of his neck.

"And what about you?"  
"What about me?"  
"How are you doing, you weirdo?"

Logan smiled.

"I'm fine, Dad."  
"Okay. Except …?"

Logan shook his head, looking down as he smiled.

"Nothing gets by you, does it, Dad?"

Clay let out a laugh.

"Not when it comes to you, kid."

Logan sighed, crossing his arms over his massive chest as he stared out over the pool.

"I don't know."

Clay smiled. He finished his coffee, walking over and clapping his hand on Logan's shoulder. He motioned with his head, and the boys walked back over to the house. Jude smiled at them as they walked into the kitchen, then nodded.

"She wanted to take a shower, then she wanted to talk to you some more, Logan."

Logan nodded, going to head up the stairs.

"Hey, kid?"

Logan turned back, and Clay smiled.

"I'm proud of you."

Logan grinned.

"Thanks, Dad."

Logan turned and walked up the steps, leaving Clay and Jude alone in the kitchen. Jude went back to washing the dishes, and Clay walked over to the window, staring out at the pool again.

* * *

 

July thirteenth was one of the gloomiest days Tree Hill had ever seen. As soon as 11:59 on July twelfth turned into midnight, signaling the start of July thirteenth, rain began to fall. It wasn't a storm, no lightning flashed. There was an occasional, somewhat quiet roll of thunder, and a steady rainfall.

Early in the morning, Brooke walked into the kitchen, glancing into the living room, seeing Meg sitting in a chair, legs curled up beneath her, forehead pressed to the window.

"Little One, what are you doing?"  
"Watching the rain."

Meg's voice was quiet, and Brooke pressed the button on her coffeemaker, then stepped over to her daughter. Brooke crossed her arms over her chest, pulling her robe closer around her.

"It's one gloomy day, isn't it?"

Meg let out a sigh, slumping down in the chair.

"It's Lydia's birthday, Mama."

Brooke's eyes widened. She hadn't even realized. Meg glanced back at the window.

"It's Lydia's birthday and even the sky is sad about it."

Meg stood up, going to the stairs and walking up. Brooke heard a door shut upstairs and closed her eyes. She stared at the coffeemaker as it beeped, then turned away, walking upstairs. She bypassed Meg's room, laying her hand against Jude's door before she gently knocked.

"Jude?"

No answer came, but that didn't really surprise Brooke. She leaned closer, resting her forehead against the door.

"Honey, open the door."

Still nothing.

Brooke reached down, surprised to find the door was unlocked. She opened the door, stopping when she saw the made-up bed. Jude wasn't there. Brooke walked into her room, grabbing her phone from the charging dock and typing out a quick text to her son. She walked over, knocking gently on Meg's door.

"Meggie?"

Meg sat up in her bed when Brooke opened the door. She let out a sigh, and Brooke smiled at her.

"Hey, punk."

Meg sighed again, and Brooke walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed. Meg looked to her, big brown eyes sad. Brooke let out a sigh of her own, reaching over to cup Meg's chin in her hand.

"Sweet baby girl."

Meg's dark eyes filled up with tears, and she launched herself from the bed into her mother's arms. Brooke caught her, gently rubbing a hand up and down her back. After a moment, Meg sniffled, resting her head against her mother's shoulder.

"I … I miss her, Mama. I miss her, and nothing seems right anymore."

Brooke closed her eyes.

"I know, baby."  
"When is she coming home?"

Brooke let out a sigh.

"I don't know, honey."  
"It needs to be soon. Everything's messed up, and Lydia needs to come home so it can be fixed again."

Meg moved out of Brooke's arms, standing up and walking out the door. Brooke pulled her phone from the pocket of her robe, frowning when she saw that she had no new messages. She tapped her phone against her leg, then stood up, walking to her bedroom and getting in the shower.

* * *

 

Quinn stood in the kitchen with her hands on her hips. Logan glanced up from his bowl of cereal, watching Quinn. A smile spread across his face as she glanced around, then he spoke, causing her to whirl around, eyes wide.

"Looking for something, Mom?"

Quinn smiled, stepping closer to rub her hand through his hair.

"Your dad. Have you seen him?"

Logan swallowed, looking down at his bowl. Quinn shook her head.

"Oh, uh-uh. What? Tell me."

Logan sighed.

"Dad, uh … He left. Pretty early, actually."  
"Where was he going?"

Logan glanced down, waiting a minute before lifting his eyes to Quinn's.

"Logan."

Logan sighed, running his hands over his face.

"South Carolina. Columbia, specifically."  
"Why in the world would he be …"

Quinn went still, and Logan let out a sigh.

"It's the thirteenth."  
"Oh my god."

Quinn walked over to the counter, leaning over and putting her face in her hands.

"It's Lydia's birthday."

Logan spoke silently, more to his cereal bowl than anything else. Quinn shook her head, lifting her head, linking her hands together at her mouth.

"He told me. The other day, he said that … that he was going to go get her and bring her home. I—I didn't think he'd actually…"

She sighed again, putting her face back in her hands. Logan stood up, walking over and laying a hand on Quinn's shoulder.

"Maybe… Maybe this is a good thing. Maybe if he brings her home, she can get better."  
"He doesn't need to bring her home."  
"Why, because being there is doing her so much good?"

Quinn sighed, and Logan walked around to where they could look at each other face-to-face.

"Mom, I know that, in theory, this place was Lydia's best option. But … She isn't getting any better. In fact, she's kind of getting worse."

Quinn let out a sigh, then met his eyes.

"I knew signing you up for that psych class a couple semesters ago was a bad idea."

Logan smiled, before he continued.

"Don't you think even looking into a Plan B may be a better option?"

Quinn sighed again, pushing her hands through her hair.

"I don't know what to think anymore, kid."

Logan walked over, putting his arm around Quinn's shoulders. She leaned into him, letting out a shaky breath as he gently rubbed her arm.

* * *

 

Sawyer sat in her bed for the longest time, staring out the window, at the rain that seemed to coat the town. She pulled her legs up to her chest, looping her arms around them, setting her cheek against her knees. A gentle knock sounded at the door, but Sawyer didn't turn around.

"Honey?"

Sawyer closed her eyes, tightening her grip around her legs. Peyton let out a sigh, walking in and sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Honey, we need to talk."  
"There's nothing to talk about."  
"Sawyer…"

Sawyer closed her eyes, and Peyton pushed a hand through her curly hair.

"There is a lot of stuff to talk about."  
"Not today, Mom. Please, not today."

Peyton sighed again.

"I know, honey. But, you know—"  
"Mom. Seriously."

Peyton nodded, standing to her feet.

"Your father wants to talk to you."  
"Well, I don't want to talk to him."  
"Sawyer—"  
"No. You're the one who let him come back. I was just fine letting him go. He wanted to go, Mom. I was all ready to let him. You brought him back, not me. I don't have anything to say to him. Or you, really."  
"Sawyer Brooke!"

Sawyer shrugged her shoulders, turning her attention out the window again. Peyton sighed, turning and walking to the door.

"We are going to have to talk, Sawyer."  
"Yeah, well, we don't have to do it today."

Peyton nodded, stepping out of the room and closing the door behind her. Sawyer continued to stare out the window until she couldn't tell the difference between the raindrops and the tears in her eyes. She reached over and grabbed her phone, tapping the screen until she found the number she was looking for.

_"Hello?"_

Fresh tears welled up at the sound of that deep voice.

_"Sawyer, are you okay?"_  
"Can you just talk to me for a while?"  
_"About what?"_  
"It doesn't matter. I just need to get my mind off of today."

The line was quiet for a minute, then Logan cleared his throat.

_"I got a call today from New Orleans. Sean Payton wants to talk to me, wants to bring me down to the Big Easy and let me see the Superdome. You ever been to New Orleans, Saw?"_

She smiled, settling down in her bed, pulling the covers closer around her.

"Not yet. I want to, though."  
_"Well, maybe when the Saints draft me, I'll fly you down."_  
"If the Panthers or the Patriots or the Giants don't get you first."  
_"Or the Browns or the Bucs or the Steelers or-"_  
"I get it, Logan."  
_"Did I forget to mention the Jets and the Broncos?"_  
"Logan!"

He let out a laugh and Sawyer sighed, closing her eyes as a warmth settled in her chest.

* * *

 

Brooke bit her cheek as she held her phone in her hand, tapping it against her palm. Owen raised an eyebrow at her, taking another sip from his coffee. Brooke let out a sigh, placing the phone on the table and putting her face in her hands. Owen set his cup down and reached across the table, taking Brooke's hand in his, pulling it from her face. He gave her a smile.

"What's going on, Brooke Davis?"

Brooke let out a long sigh.

"I have been calling Jude all morning, and he hasn't answered one time. He was gone before I got up, but I don't know where he went."  
"He's a good kid. I'm sure he's fine."  
"He just … He's never done this before."

Brooke pushed one of her hands through her hair.

"He's always told me where he was going before he … went."

Owen smiled.

"Honey, I'm certain he's fine."

Brooke sighed again, then squeezed his hand.

"I'm going to try to call him one more time."

Owen sighed as Brooke stood up from the table, phone in hand as she tapped on the screen. The phone rang three times, and Brooke held her breath, expecting Jude's voicemail to pick up.

_"Hello?"_

Brooke closed her eyes as she let out a relieved sigh.

"Jude Baker, I could skin you alive. Where are you?"

She heard an exhale on the other end of the line, and when it was quiet for just a second too long, Brooke spoke again.

"Jude. Where are you?"  
_"About fifty miles south of Columbia."_

Brooke blinked twice, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry. What the hell did you just say?"

Brooke heard the harsh exhale and shook her head again.

"Jude Baker, you had better be lying to me."  
_"It's her birthday, Mom."_

Brooke closed her eyes, pushing her hand through her hair.

_"It's her birthday, and I haven't let her have a birthday without me."_  
"Jude, you can't do this. She can't have any visitors."  
_"Then I've driven all this way to stand back and look at the building. I don't care, Mom."_  
"I care, Jude. _I_ care!"

She put her hand over her mouth as she stood there, then spoke.

"Come home right now."  
_"No."_  
"Excuse me?"  
_"No, Mom. I'm going to see her."_  
"Jude, I swear—"  
_"Six months. I have been away from her for six damn months, and I am going to see her today, in one way or another. And that? That's worth whatever punishment you want to give me."_

Brooke squeezed her eyes shut.

"Honey, you might do more harm than good."  
_"How?! Nothing they're doing here is working. She's not getting any better! I have to see her today. I have to see her or else I swear to God, Mom, I'm going to lose my mind."_

Brooke sighed, setting her hand on her hip.

"Jude…"  
_"You can be mad at me all you want. But I'm already almost there. I'm not turning around. I … I'll see you when I get home."_  
"Jude, do not hang up. Jude!"

Brooke stared at her phone, then turned around and threw it, bouncing it off Owen's chest and into his hand.

"Uh, ow."

Brooke blew out a breath, turning away from him and pushing both hands through her hair. Owen gingerly set her phone on the counter before he turned back to face her, absently rubbing one hand on his chest.

"You want to talk about it?"

Brooke turned her head back to him, one eyebrow raised.

"Does it look like I want to talk about it?"

Owen bit his lip, unable to hide his smile as she turned away from him again.

"So you talked to Jude?"  
"Yes, I talked to Jude! Did you take your take your 'I'm gonna piss off Brooke' pill today?"

Owen laughed at that, raising his fist to his mouth and coughing to try and cover it up, but it was too late. He shrugged his shoulders, and Brooke sighed.

"He's in South Carolina."

Owen nodded, then his eyes widened.

"Oh boy."  
"Yeah. The kid left my house before I woke up and drove nearly four hours to see …"

Brooke sighed, lifting a hand to lay over her heart.

"To see Lydia on her birthday."

Owen nodded slowly.

"Well, honey. Do you blame him?"

Brooke smiled, shaking her head.

"Not even a little bit."

* * *

 

Jude pulled the car into a parking spot, putting it in park and wiping his hands on his pants. Jesus, it was hot in that car. Never mind that he'd had the air conditioner all the way up for pretty much the entire ride. He swallowed again, irritated at his suddenly-dry-as-the-damn-desert throat. He sighed, looking out the window, squinting at the rain. He reached for the umbrella in the seat beside him, doing his best to ignore his shaky hands. He steeled his shoulders, taking in a deep breath and managing not to throw up. He took in another breath, for good measure, then opened his door, stepping out into the rain.

The place wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Okay, it wasn't anything like a prison at all. No bars on the windows, no guards patrolling the gate. There was a gate, but no one stood atop a tower with a rifle in his hand. Jude kept his head down as he walked through the parking lot, mouth so dry he was thinking of just lifting his face and taking in some of the rainwater. He walked all the way to the front steps, stopping in his tracks.

"Clay?"

Clay looked up, meeting Jude's gaze with puffy, red eyes. Clay's face was slightly swollen and red, and the breath he let out was broken. Jude made his way over, bending down beside him.

"Clay, you're soaked. Let's just go inside, okay?"

Clay shook his head.

"I can't."  
"What?"

His voice was so quiet. So much so that Jude couldn't even hear him over the sound of the rain. He leaned closer, and Clay took in another broken breath, speaking just as softly.

"I can't go in."

Jude glanced around, stared up at the door, then looked back to Clay.

"Why not?"

Clay shook his head, letting out a hitched breath. Tears filled his eyes again.

"I can't … I can't go in there. I can't see her like –"

Clay hung his head, letting out a sob. Jude swallowed hard, then sat down beside Clay. Clay clasped his hands together, staring out over the rain as tears dripped down his cheeks.

"She's in there because of me."  
"Clay."

Clay shook his head.

"No, I should … I should have been there. I should have helped her."  
"You were there."  
"Not—not like she needed me to be. I should have protected her."  
"From what, herself?"

Clay turned his head, looking Jude in the eye. Jude sighed, pushing a hand through his hair.

"If we're blaming anybody, it should be me."

Clay just watched him as Jude looked out across the parking lot, at the rain that just refused to stop coming down. Jude shook his head.

"I knew something was wrong. A long … a long time ago, I knew it. But I didn't say anything. I just … I thought if I stayed with her, if I showed her how much I love her, that would be enough. But it—it wasn't."

Jude looked down, staring at his feet, in the puddle of water on the step underneath them.

"She was hurting so badly, and I just … I wasn't good enough for her."  
"Hey."

Jude looked over, not realizing the tears that were silently making their ways down his cheeks. Clay shook his head.

"You helped her more than anyone else."  
"And look where it got her."

Jude tossed a hand out behind him, and Clay glanced back, closing his eyes as he turned forward again.

"Jude—"  
"I never should have done what I did."  
"What?"

Jude swallowed, shaking his head as fresh tears came to his eyes.

"When I broke up with her. She didn't deserve that."  
"Are you kidding me? Jude, that was exactly what she needed."  
"Yeah, and it did her a lot of good, didn't it? Because you remember what happened after that? I do. That was when I found her bleeding in the bathtub."

Jude put his head in his hands then, and Clay took the umbrella from him without him even realizing. Jude cried as quietly as he could, shoulders shaking. Finally, Clay reached over, putting his arm around Jude's shoulders.

"You want to know what I think?"

Jude was quiet, and Clay went on.

"I think she called you because she knew you'd do your best to help her."

Jude shook his head and Clay tightened his grip around him.

"You saved her life, Jude. You did! Hey."

Clay pushed Jude's shoulder until they were looking at each other face-to-face.

"She would have died if it hadn't been for you. You saved her life, son."  
"But it wasn't enough! She's here, and she's not okay."  
"But she will be. She has the chance to be, and that's because of you, Jude."

Jude sobbed then, and Clay pulled him close, holding him tightly as months of pain and confusion were finally set free. Jude cried, harder than he could remember, and Clay just held him, letting him get it out, as he felt his own pain lighten just a bit.

* * *

 

After what felt like forever, Jude sniffled, pulling away from Clay, yet staying close enough for Clay to keep an arm around him. Jude took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly.

"Sorry."  
"Nothing to apologize for. We've been carrying this around for too long."

Jude nodded, smiling softly.

"'We'?"

Clay smiled back.

"Yeah. It …"

Clay took in a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh.

"Neither one of us is to blame for this. No one is to blame, and we have to stop blaming ourselves."

Jude nodded.

"She's going to get better."

Clay smiled.

"Yes, Yes, she is."  
"And we have to let her. No matter—no matter how long it takes."

Clay nodded slowly.

"No matter how long it takes."

They nodded at each other, both exhaling gently. Jude stood up, reaching out a hand, and Clay took it as he stood up. Clay smiled, laying his arm over Jude's shoulders.

"Well, we came all this way. Might as well get some lunch before we go back, right?"

Jude smiled.

"I guess so."

They walked to Clay's truck, and as he laid his hand on the door, Jude felt a tingle at the back of his neck. He turned back, taking in the length of the building, stopping on the last window. He took in a breath as the world seemed to disappear, the only sound in his ears the falling rain. He smiled, raising a hand to his lips before folding his fingers into the sign for 'I love you.'

"Get better, Lyd. Happy birthday."

Jude swallowed, opening the door and climbing in the truck, staring at the window as they drove away.

* * *

 

"Lydia?"

She took her eyes from the window, glancing over at the therapist, an older woman with dark, gentle eyes. Dr. Chambers, she said, but Lydia could call her Emily if she wanted. Lydia looked at her for a moment, then brought her eyes back to the window. She was in a really bad place now, if she was hallucinating. She could have sworn that was Clay's truck, and that Jude had just climbed into the passenger's side.

"Well… happy birthday."

Lydia closed her eyes, letting out a silent sigh. Dr. Chambers went on.

"We've had lots of calls about you this morning. Your aunt Quinn, of course. She was first. Brooke Davis called, and Peyton Scott. They're just thinking about you today, and wanted to be sure you knew it. Davis Baker called, and his father got on the phone, wanted me to tell you he said happy birthday."

Lydia nodded. Julian wishing her a happy birthday was kind of unexpected.

"But … The most unexpected call, I suppose, was from a sweet little voice."

Lydia looked over, apprehension on her face. Dr. Chambers smiled back at her.

"Megan Baker called. Megan Victoria Baker, she said. She didn't think she was allowed to call, but she did anyway. She wanted me to tell you that she misses you and she wants you to get better, and she said the most peculiar thing. She said that I needed to go to the store and get you some flowers. Because every single year, as far back as she could remember, she had gotten her brothers or her mom to get you flowers on your birthday. They needed to be orange, with brown spots on them, and I can't remember what she said the name of them were."  
"Tiger lilies."

Dr. Chambers looked over, to see Lydia staring back at her with tears in her eyes.

"What?"

Lydia took in a shaky breath, her voice hoarse and scratchy from disuse.

"Tiger lilies. Meg, we—we watched Peter Pan when she was little, and she loved the little Indian girl, Tiger Lily. She was Tiger Lily for Halloween, and when I told her that a tiger lily was a flower, she sent one to me for my birthday. And she always has, every year."

Lydia was sobbing now, bent over on the couch, clutching one of the pillows to her chest. Dr. Chambers watched her, one hand over her mouth. Lydia lifted her head, tears rolling down her cheeks, and she shook her head.

"I can't do this anymore. I don't want to. Please. Please, you have to help me. I can't stand this anymore."

Dr. Chambers blinked back tears of her own, nodding her head.

"Okay. Okay, honey. We will. You don't have to feel like this anymore."

Lydia nodded, breath still catching, but she took the hand her doctor reached out, squeezing it once as she finally, finally felt an inkling of okay.

* * *

 

"Hey, look."

Clay looked up from his burger, out the window, where Jude had motioned.

"It stopped raining."


	10. Breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Breathe" by Taylor Swift

Clay walked into the house, dropping his keys on the table near the door. He walked into the living room and Quinn stood up from the couch. Clay sighed, holding out his hands.

"I'm sorry. Quinn, I just—"

He stopped, closing his eyes as Quinn wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his neck. Clay swallowed, wrapping his arms around her, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. Quinn pulled back, taking Clay's face in her hands and kissing him. She pulled back, smiling at him as she gently ran her thumbs down his cheeks.

"What, baby?"

Quinn smiled through the tears in her eyes.

"Did you see her?"

Clay let out a sigh, shaking his head.

"No, I … I couldn't bring myself to go in."

Quinn let out a laugh, and Clay shook his head.

"Babe, I think you might be losing it."

Quinn shook her head.

"No. No, baby, I just …"

She sniffled, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"Maybe she saw you."  
"Who, Lydia?"

Quinn nodded. Clay reached down and took her hands.

"I don't understand."

Quinn took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she smiled, fresh tears appearing in her eyes.

"The doctor called. Lydia had a breakthrough."   
"What?"

Quinn nodded, smiling as a tear rolled down her cheek. Clay absently reached up, wiping it away with his thumb, cupping Quinn's cheek in his hand. He shook his head, and Quinn reached up, wrapping her hand around Clay's wrist.

"She spoke. She told the doctor that she wants help."   
"What?"

Quinn let out another laugh, nodding her head. She sighed.

"She, um … She told the doctor that she had stopped taking some of the pills they'd given her, and that she had a bunch of them hidden beneath her mattress. So the doctor thought it would be a good idea to move her into a kind of solitary confinement, I guess? There will be someone watching her constantly now. She won't have a chance to be alone."   
"She's okay, though? She didn't—"   
"No, no honey. She's okay. The doctor is very optimistic, she said."

Clay nodded, then brought his eyes to his wife's.

"Quinn."

Quinn watched as Clay's eyes filled with tears.

"She's going to be okay?"

Quinn smiled, nodding as tears filled her eyes again.

"She's going to be okay."

Clay laughed as the tears began to fall, and he pulled Quinn close to him, holding her as they both cried.

* * *

 

Jude walked into the house, looking around the corner as he hung his keys near the door. He stepped around the corner, coming to a stop when he saw his mother standing in the kitchen, arms crossed over her chest. Jude gave a small smile, and Brooke raised an eyebrow. Jude sighed, and Brooke held up a hand.

"Do not."

Jude nodded, hanging his head. Brooke sighed.

"I don't know whether I should kick your butt or hug you. What the hell were you thinking, Jude?! Leaving like that, not giving me any idea as to where you were going?"   
"Mom, I just—"   
"Do not, Jude."

He nodded again, and Brooke sighed again.

"You scared me. Really bad. And I do not appreciate you ignoring my calls or the way you talked to me when you finally answered the phone."

Jude stared at the floor, then lifted his eyes to his mother. Brooke sighed.

"Now you can talk."

Jude sighed.

"I know that you're mad. And I'm sorry. I really am, Mom. I'm sorry for making you worry about me. But I am not sorry that I went."

He looked up, meeting her eyes again.

"I'm not apologizing for going. I'm apologizing for making you worry and freaking you out."

Brooke nodded.

"Was it worth it?"

Jude sighed. Brooke took a step forward, laying her hands on the counter and leaning forward.

"What was she like?"

Jude looked down, then met Brooke's eyes again. He took in a deep breath.

"I didn't see her."

Brooke raised an eyebrow, and Jude sighed.

"Clay was there. Guess we had the same idea. And he was just sitting on the steps. But we … We talked. For a long time."

When Jude went quiet, Brooke leaned over, taking his hand.

"What did you talk about?"

Her voice was quiet, soft. Jude shrugged his shoulders, looking down at their hands. He spoke just as softly.

"Lydia. Clay was really upset, and he couldn't … he couldn't go inside. He blamed himself for what happened, and … I don't know, I did, too. I mean, I didn't blame him, but … me."   
"Honey."

Jude sighed.

"I know. And Clay helped me realize that it wasn't my fault. And it's not his, either. It's nobody's fault."

Jude nodded, and looked up at Brooke then, and smiled.

"I'm okay, Mom. I think … I don't know. I feel like something's changed, you know?"   
"Like how?"

Jude shook his head, keeping the smile on his face.

"I don't know. But I feel better. I'm not so weighed down anymore. Like a weight's been lifted off of me. It's not my fault that Lydia's sick. It's no one's fault. And there isn't anything I could have done differently to change anything."

Brooke gently squeezed his hand, looking to the side as her phone started to ring.

"Grab you something to drink or something. We're not done here yet."

Jude nodded, going to the fridge as Brooke answered her phone.

"Hello? … Oh, hey Quinn. … No, he just got here. … Wait. … What? … Are you serious?"

Brooke turned and looked at Jude, tears in her eyes as she covered her mouth with a hand. Jude set his bottle of water aside, stepping over to his mom. Brooke shook her head as tears slid down her cheeks.

"No, thank you for calling. … I will. … You, too. Bye."

Brooke hung up the phone, putting her hands over her mouth as she cried. Jude shook his head, finally reaching out and taking hold of Brooke's shoulders.

"Mom, please. What? What's wrong?"

She looked to him.

"Oh, honey."

She smiled, reaching out and smoothing Jude's shirt over his shoulders. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks, but she kept the smile on her face.

"Mom?"   
"It's okay, Jude."

She looked to him, cupping his face in her hands.

"The doctor called Quinn. It seems like Lydia had a breakthrough today."   
"What? A breakthrough? What does that—what does that mean?"   
"She talked. And she told the therapist that she wants help."

Jude sucked in a breath, shaking his head.

"Wait. What?"   
"She's responding to the treatment, honey. She's going to finally start getting better."

Jude nodded slowly, and tears welled up in his eyes before he turned and hugged Brooke. She smiled and closed her eyes, holding one hand to the back of his head, the other wrapped around his back as he cried.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Everything's okay."   
"Mom."   
"I'm right here, honey."   
"She's getting better?"

Brooke nodded.

"Yes, my love."

She pushed him back, gently, wiping the tears from his face.

"It's going to be okay now, Jude."

He let out a long breath, leaning forward and hugging Brooke again, and she held him close, stroking his hair.

* * *

 

Peyton hung up the phone and hung her head. She gripped the edge of the counter for a moment, shaking her head, then straightened. She let out a long breath, then walked into the living room. Lucas looked up from his chair, going to stand up and stopping when Peyton lifted a hand to him. He settled back down, and Peyton crossed her arms over her chest.

"That was Quinn. Lydia had some sort of breakthrough today."   
"What?"

Lucas shook his head, eyes wide and hopeful.

"What does that mean?"

Peyton sighed, lifting a hand to push her hair away from her face.

"I'm not sure, but Quinn assured me that it's a good sign."

Lucas smiled.

"Peyt, that … That's great!"

Peyton nodded, then turned away from him, walking out of the room and down the hall. Lucas sighed, pushing a hand through his hair. He stood up, turning around and stopping when he saw Ellie standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, looking exactly the way her mother had just a few moments earlier.

"El, hey. Did your mom tell you the good news?"

Ellie nodded.

"Lydia's getting better."   
"Yeah, isn't that great?"

Ellie shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know, does it mean you can get better now, too?"

Lucas stopped.

"Ellie."

She rolled her eyes, blowing out her breath, every bit the teenager she was. She turned away from Lucas, walking down the hall, and he heard her door shut a few seconds later. He let out a breath, walking out of the living room and closing his eyes as he laid his hands against the kitchen counter.

Truth be told, he was itching for a drink. But he wasn't an alcoholic. He'd done this before. Things got bad, and Lucas Scott tended to drown his sorrows. The last time he could remember was when Lindsay left him at the altar. Boy, wasn't that a lifetime ago? Lucas smiled, stepping over to the refrigerator, opening it and seeing the beer in the bottom drawer. Beer wasn't that bad, right? Hell of a lot better than whiskey. Lucas pulled out the drawer, grabbing a beer and twisting the top off. He took a long drink, shutting the refrigerator, stopping when hurt blue eyes met his.

"Sawyer."

She nodded, a hard smile on her face.

"And here I was, getting in trouble for being such a brat towards you. Because you were doing all you could 'to get better for us.' Mom's exact words."

Lucas swallowed, setting the beer on the counter.

"Oh, no. No. Don't stop on my account. That never held you back before."   
"Honey—"   
"Don't you dare 'honey' me. You walked out on us. You're back because Mom wants you here, because Ellie still has faith in you. But I'm fresh out."

Sawyer pushed away from the wall, walking towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

She turned back, that same cold smile on her face.

"Anywhere but here? Anywhere I can find that's away from you?"   
"Sawyer, I know you're mad at me, but I'm still your dad."   
"No, you gave up that title when you WALKED OUT ON ME. When you left me, you left that title behind, too."   
"Sawyer—"

Lucas' sentence was cut off by the slamming of the door. He closed his eyes, letting out a breath when his lungs began to burn. Tears were in his eyes as he shook his head, staring at the beer bottle on the counter. He heard a sigh behind him, and he turned back, looking into nearly the same hurt eyes that he'd seen on his daughter reflected back at him from his wife.

"The beer's not any better, you know."

Peyton walked away, and when Lucas heard the bedroom door shut, he turned to the sink. He wished to God that he could just pour the rest of the liquid down the drain.

And that was the thought that was running through his mind as he turned the bottle up, swallowing foam as he reached into the fridge for another.

* * *

 

Logan got out of his truck and jogged over to the edge of the basketball court. Sawyer was there, breath heaving in and out of her lungs as she grunted, making pained noises as she ran from one end to the other, every now and then picking up a ball and throwing it as hard as she could at the goal. Some made it in, but most just bounced off the backboard, or the post holding up the net. Logan narrowed his eyes as he saw the sweat pouring down her face, soaking her t-shirt. He stepped forward, taking off at a run as Sawyer threw the ball, twisting her ankle and falling to the ground.

"Hey, you okay?"   
"Fine."

She went to stand up, letting out a pained yell and collapsing again, this time in Logan's arms.

"Easy. Take it easy."   
"Let me go. Let go!"

He backed off, and Sawyer curled her legs up, breathing hard. Logan watched her.

"You need some water."   
"I'm fine."

Logan nodded slowly.

"Yeah. This is what fine looks like."

Sawyer closed her eyes, resting her forehead on her knees. When she lifted her head again, tears were rolling down her cheeks. Logan automatically knelt beside her, facing her, and she just shook her head as she reached out a hand for him. He linked his fingers with hers and she squeezed, letting out a sob.

"I'm so mad. I'm so mad at fucking everything, and I just—I can't take this anymore."   
"Sawyer—"

She shook her head, sobbing again.

"I'm mad at my dad. I hate him, and I hate myself for it. He's my dad, Logan. He made a mistake, and I know that, and I just want to hug him and tell him how much I love him, but every time I open my mouth, something hateful comes out."

Logan leaned closer, and Sawyer leaned into him as she cried, then shook her head.

"This is just awful, Logan. I'm a horrible person."   
"No, honey. No, you're not."

Sawyer nodded.

"Mama—Mama told me about Lydia. How she's—how she's getting better. And I … I can't—"

Sawyer sobbed again, and Logan lifted an arm to wrap around her, but Sawyer pushed him away, shaking her head again.

"I'm so mad at her. At Lydia. Who does that? She's sick and getting better and I'm pissed off about it."

Sawyer shook her head as she pillowed her arms on her knees, resting her face on her forearms as she cried. Logan ran his hand over his mouth, then moved closer, putting his arm around Sawyer, pulling her to him until she had her arms around his waist, crying into his shoulder. He just held her, gently running his hand up and down her arm as she cried, soaking his t-shirt with her tears.

"You know…"

Sawyer didn't lift her head from his shoulder, and Logan continued to gently rub her back.

"I don't think it's awful that you feel this way."   
"You're just saying that to pacify me."

Logan smiled at her muffled comment.

"Nah. I'm being serious."

She pulled back, wiping her hands under her eyes.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Logan laughed.

"I mean…"

He leaned up, thumbing away a tear from Sawyer's cheek.

"It's a natural reaction."   
"Being pissed off?"

He nodded.

"It doesn't make you a bad person, Saw. It makes you human."

She nodded slowly, then shook her head.

"Logan, she's sick."   
"I know."   
"And I'm mad at her for it."   
"I know."  
"She didn't have any control over it. She—she couldn't help it."   
"But she could have helped what she did."

Sawyer went quiet, shrinking back just a bit. She lifted her eyes to Logan's.

"Is that what it is?"

Logan shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know. Is it?"

Sawyer looked out over the court, at the river flowing in the distance.

"I'm not mad at her for being sick."

Logan shook his head. Sawyer smiled softly.

"And it's really not even her that I'm so mad at. It's me."

Sawyer looked back to Logan, who gave her a smile.

"You'd do well in Psych."

Sawyer rolled her eyes and Logan laughed. He stood to his feet, holding out a hand. Sawyer smiled, laying her hand in his, standing up. She blinked hard as her vision suddenly blacked out and she stumbled into Logan's arms.

"Whoa, hey. Sawyer? You okay?"

She blinked a few times, clutching Logan's arms.

"Sawyer. Hey, look at me."

After a minute, she did, bringing her eyes to his. He moved a hand to cup her face, leaving his other hand at her waist.

"You okay?"

She let out a shaky breath and nodded.

"Yeah, I—I'm okay."   
"What the hell was that?"

She shook her head.

"I don't … I don't know. I just got dizzy. I think I almost passed out."  
"Yeah, I think so, too. Christ. You scared me."

Neither of them realized the way Logan had Sawyer pulled close, right up against his chest. She laid her head against his shoulder, so close he could feel her shaky breaths against his neck. He gently ran his hands up and down her back, until she straightened, a blush crossing her cheeks as she took a step back from him. Logan smiled, reaching up to push a stray curl behind her ear.

"You okay?"

She smiled, nodding. Logan nodded back, then took her hand as he started walking to his truck. Sawyer followed him, wrinkling up her nose.

"What are you doing?"   
"Food. I'm starving."   
"You're always starving."   
"Well, I'm a growing boy."   
"Oh, bullshit."

Logan laughed, opening the door for her. Sawyer shook her head.

"I'm sure I stink."   
"Whatever. Get your ass in the truck."   
"My purse is in my car."   
"If you think I'm asking you to go eat with me and then making you pay for yours, I'm insulted."   
"That makes it a date, though."   
"No, it's good manners. And don't even try anything else. You're going, because it would just be sad for me to go by myself. Can you imagine the 'look at that poor boy, eating all alone' stares? You don't want to do that to me, do you, Saw?"

She shook her head.

"You're unbelievable."

Logan flashed her a grin before he shut her door, jogging around to his side.

* * *

 

Quinn leaned against the wall, looking into the living room, where Clay was in his chair, watching ESPN, gently running his fingers through Riley's wet hair. It didn't happen very often, because their fourteen-almost-fifteen-year-old daughter was "not a baby anymore, Mom, jeez." But when it did, they both embraced the times Riley would curl up in Clay's lap the way she used to, or when she'd sit at the bar, watching as Quinn cooked dinner or went through her photographs. Tonight, Clay couldn't help the smile that was on his face while he watched the latest edition of Sports Center, while Riley didn't say a word. Her eyes were closed now, and she wasn't quite asleep, but she would be soon.

If the phone hadn't decided to ring.

Riley narrowed her eyes as she sat up, looking at Clay, who looked back at her with a similar expression. Quinn walked over and picked up the phone, waving a hand at her husband and daughter.

"Hello? … Yes, this is… What? … Wait. I'm sorry. What? … When? … Are you— … Yes. … Okay. … No, thank you for calling. We will."

Quinn hung up the phone, leaning onto the kitchen counter, putting her face in her hands. Clay rounded the corner, walking over and resting his forearms on the counter near his wife.

"Q?"

She let out a laugh as she shook her head.

"I should have known. Things were just going too good today."

Clay reached over, taking one of her hands from her face and holding it in both of his.

"What, baby?"

Quinn sighed, pushing her other hand through her hair.

"I tried to call Jamie earlier, to tell him about Lydia. He didn't answer the phone. But, uh …"

She let out a long breath.

"That was Chase."  
"Not Chase the …"   
"Yeah. Our lawyer, Chase. Jamie's in jail."


	11. Savin' Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Savin' Me" by Nickelback

Clay climbed out of his truck, slamming the door shut behind him. Chase Adams was standing beside the door, quickly putting out his cigarette and walking over to Clay. He held up his hands and Clay smiled, shaking his head.

"Back off, dude. You do not want to mess with me right now."   
"I know. I get it. But Clay—"   
"No. Don't. Do _not_."

Chase sighed as Clay pushed past him, pulling open the door to the Durham County Courthouse. Clay made his way down a hall, Chase scurrying after him, both of them following an officer who led them back to a cell. Clay set his hands on his hips as Jamie rolled up from laying on the cot, sitting on the edge. Chase let out a breath, and Clay let out a quiet laugh.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Jamie sighed, bringing his face up, looking Clay in the eye. Clay's eyes widened as he nodded towards Jamie's black eye.

"That from the accident or did someone do you a favor before you got pulled over for a DUI? Perhaps you had some company earlier?"   
"They wouldn't let anyone in the cell with me. Celebrity and all that shit."   
"Well, you can pretty much kiss 'all that shit' goodbye."

Jamie looked back down at his hands and Clay shook his head.

"You got arrested at Duke. _Duke University_ , Jamie. Do you understand how much shit you're in right now?"

Jamie let out a breath and Clay reached up, hanging his head as he held onto the bars of the cell.

"You had better be glad you're behind these bars, Jamie Scott. Because I swear to God, right now, Chase would have to pull me off of you."

Jamie rolled his eyes, and something inside Clay snapped.

"Hey! You little punk, you look at me when I'm talking to you."   
"When you're yelling at me, you mean."  
"Doesn't matter what the hell I'm doing, you show me the respect you always have."

Jamie hung his head at that, and Chase took the hint, stepping away, leaving Clay and Jamie alone. Clay took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"Now. Talk to me, James. What's the deal?"   
"'What's the deal?' Oh, gee, I don't know. Maybe it's the fact that my baby sister is in a mental institution."   
"So that gives you the right to drive under the influence? Son, don't even get me started on that."

Jamie shook his head as he got to his feet.

"You don't—you don't get it. No one gets it, okay?"   
"Gets what?"

Jamie shook his head again, whirling around and punching the mirror that hung over the sink in the cell. Clay jumped, letting out a breath as glass shards tinkled to the floor.

"Jesus, Jamie!"   
"I should have been there."

Clay stared at Jamie's hand, at the blood that was welling from the cuts on his knuckles, at the little pieces of glass that were embedded in his skin.

"What?"

Jamie shook his head, flexing his hands on the sink.

"I should have been there."   
"Jamie, you can't—"   
"No, not… Not when it happened. I mean before that."

His voice was thick and quiet after he let out a hard laugh, then swallowed.

"I mean her whole life. I should have been there for her, and I wasn't."

He hung his head, and Clay closed his eyes, letting out a sigh, dragging a hand over his face. Jamie walked over, sitting back on the cot, putting his face in his hands. He started to gently rock back and forth, and Clay let out a long breath. Jamie sniffled, looking away from Clay as he spoke.

"I'm nine years older than she is. I helped take care of her when she was little, and somewhere along the way…"   
"You were just a kid, Jamie. You had a life of your own. It wasn't your responsibility to raise her."

Jamie smiled, shaking his head.

"I could have stayed closer to home."   
"Jamie, you got a once in a lifetime opportunity, straight out of high school. Do you know how often that happens? Let me just tell you. Never."

Jamie shook his head again, blowing out his breath.

"Yeah, it was great. It was incredible, but at what cost? I mean, my God, Clay. My little sister is broken and hurting so badly, and I … What did I do? Nothing. Because I was thousands of miles away."   
"Because you were doing your job."

Jamie squeezed his eyes shut, raking his hands through his hair. Clay blinked hard. God, seeing Jamie like this was throwing Clay back, as if he were talking to Nathan instead of Nathan's son. The bruised and bloody hands pushing through the dark hair, just a shade darker than Lydia's chocolate brown, the broken-up breaths being exhaled. It was a song Clay had heard before, something he had witnessed years before. Clay swallowed, shaking his head.

"Jamie—"   
"It's not fair. I did what I did for our family. To take care of everyone, to ensure that Lydia never had to want for anything. And it … It wasn't enough."   
"Now that's not true."

Jamie let out a laugh.

"Tell me one more time where Lydia is. Tell me one more time how the goddamn treatments or whatever they're doing to her isn't working. Tell me one more time how she's not speaking, how she's fucking catatonic at times. Please, Clay, enlighten me to that just once more."   
"The ice you are skating on is very, very thin, my friend. Watch it."

Jamie pinched the bridge of his nose, wincing at the pain that sent through his knuckles. He looked at his hand, seeing the cuts and the blood for the first time. He sighed, gritting his teeth as he flexed his hand, moving to cradle it in his other one. Clay let out a long sigh.

"If you could get your head out of your ass for just a couple minutes, I would be able to tell you that something happened earlier today. Well, yesterday now."   
"What was it?"

Jamie glanced over to Clay, the worry and fear apparent on his face. Clay shook his head, smiling.

"I don't know details, but Lydia spoke. She told the doctor she wants help, and they're taking steps to help her."   
"What do you … What?"

Clay nodded as Jamie stood to his feet.

"She wants to get better. That's what she told the doctor. We still can't see her, or talk to her, but they've moved her to a sort of solitary situation, where someone is with her every second."  
"Why would someone need to be with her every single second? Did she try something else?"

Clay shook his head.

"No, but I think she may have been thinking about it."

Jamie sank back down to the bed, putting his head in his hands again. Clay gripped the bars.

"Even if that's true, which, I'm not saying it is; I don't know for sure. But even if it is, Lydia stopped it. She talked to the doctor, putting a stop to it before it started. She wants to get better, Jamie."

Jamie lifted his head, tears coursing down his cheeks.

"I just feel so guilty."  
"It's not your fault."

Jamie shook his head.

"She needed me. She needed a brother, and I was too busy being an NBA star. What kind of bullshit is that?"

Clay sighed, shaking his head, his heart breaking.

"Jamie Scott. Look at me."

Jamie closed his eyes, but finally looked over to Clay.

"This was not your fault. This wasn't anyone's fault. You can't put the blame on anyone, and you definitely can't put it on your own shoulders. That's a burden you don't need to carry, James."

Jamie let out a long, shuddering sigh. He looked at his hands, sniffling as he shook his head.

"You should just leave me in here."

Clay snorted.

"As tempting as that is… We've already taken care of it."

Clay and Jamie both looked over at Chase as he came walking up. He set his briefcase on the ground by his feet, reaching up and undoing his tie, the top two buttons of his shirt. He let out a sigh as he stretched out his neck.

"You pull me out of bed last night, make me put on a suit. Make me call the family and tell them the clusterfuck you caused. Little shit ain't worth my time."

Clay laughed as he reached over, clapping a hand on Chase's shoulder. Chase gave him a smile, then turned back to his client in the cell.

"Apparently, you were pretty loaded, thanks to some party at Duke. An officer was watching you as you came outside, knew who you were. He watched you get in a car. When you started it up, he walked over, convinced you to cut it off, and since you were practically a walking distillery at the time, he just made you think you had just gotten a DUI."   
"Wait. So he didn't actually drive?"

Chase shook his head.

"Nope. And he believed the cop because he's a _dumbass_!"

Jamie rolled his eyes at Chase, putting his face back in his hands. Chase turned to Clay.

"Officer didn't even write it up, just tossed Jamie in the cell and gave him the customary phone call. He called me, smartest move he'd made all night, and here we are."

Clay shook his head.

"One more time. He didn't actually get a DUI?"

Chase shook his head.

"He didn't drive. He certainly seemed like he was going to, but the cop cut him off before he could."

Clay shut his eyes, letting out a sigh.

"James Lucas Scott, you are the luckiest son of a bitch I know."

* * *

 

Clay walked into the house, smiling when Quinn rushed into the foyer.

"Is he okay?"

Clay stepped aside, holding the door open, and Jamie walked in. Quinn closed her eyes, letting out a sigh of relief, walking over and taking Jamie in her arms. She stepped back, taking hold of his chin, turning his face where she could get a better look at his eye.

"Either someone got you good, or that was one hell of a door you walked into."   
"You should see that door, Aunt Q."

She sighed, shaking her head, reaching down to pick up Jamie's now-bandaged hand. Clay shook his head.

"The poor mirror never saw it coming."   
"Seven years of bad luck, isn't it?"

Jamie snorted, a smile crossing his face when Logan stepped into the room. Logan shook his head.

"I'm just wondering when the people in this town—or from this town, I guess—are going to come to their damn senses. It's like we're falling apart."  
"Guess Lydia was the glue we never knew about."

Jamie cradled his hand in his other as he walked into the living room. Quinn and Clay exchanged a glance while Logan pushed his hands through his hair. Logan shook his head, turning and going back upstairs, and once they heard his door shut, Clay let out a breath.

"What a day."

Quinn smiled, walking over and giving Clay a quick kiss. She reached down to hold his hand, walking with him into the kitchen.

"I called the coach. Told him we were having a family thing and he completely understood. He had a meeting with the players, and all of them who were at the party at Duke were punished quite fairly, then asked to keep their mouths shut. They all seem pretty cooperative, though."

Clay nodded as Quinn took a seat at the bar. He leaned over the counter, right across from her.

"James packed about a week's worth of things and I told him to just get ready to make himself comfortable."

Clay sighed, shaking his head.

"He's so angry, Q. He's angry and hurt and he feels real guilty."   
"It's not his fault."

Clay smiled, reaching over to take her hand.

"Try telling him that. He's got the Nathan Scott martyr complex."   
"That wasn't a complex. Nathan was kind of a martyr."

Clay nodded, bringing Quinn's hand to his lips and kissing her fingers. Quinn sighed.

"I've been thinking about calling the facility. Seeing if maybe Jamie could see Lydia? See that she's getting better? But then I thought that may do more harm than good, and I just … I don't know, Clay."

He smiled, reaching over to cup her face in his hand.

"I don't know what to do here either."

Quinn smiled.

"Maybe we can get Brooke on it."

Clay snapped his fingers.

"Maybe we can get James to see Lucas. Maybe that will help them both."

Quinn slowly nodded.

"Now there's an idea."

* * *

 

"I don't want to see him."

Jamie spoke slowly, each word enunciated and dripping with attitude. Quinn smiled as she flipped on her right blinker.

"Oh, hey. Remember that time you almost got arrested for a DUI? What you want doesn't matter."

Jamie closed his eyes as he sat back against the seat, blowing out a breath. Quinn snorted.

"Seriously? What are you, thirteen again?"   
"I'm twenty-five."   
"Then start acting like it."

Jamie shut his mouth, and Quinn pulled into the driveway. She knew the Comet would be sitting in the garage, beside Lucas' black truck, and she smiled when she saw that she was parked right beside Sawyer's Altima. She turned off the engine, looking to Jamie, who was looking back at her. As he blinked, giving a damn good interpretation of the puppy eyes Haley used to give her when she wanted her way, she gave him a smile.

"Turn it off. It's not going to work on me."   
"Oh, come on, Aunt Quinn!"

She opened her door and climbed out, and Jamie did the same. As he held one hand on the door, she spoke calmly.

"You slam that door and I will let your uncle and your cousin loose on you. A black eye will be the least of your worries once we pull Logan off of you."

Jamie sighed, pushing his door closed gently. He dragged his feet as he walked up the steps to stand beside Quinn, and she smiled.

"Now. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

She gently brushed her fingers through his hair, then knocked on the door. Jamie closed his eyes as the blinds were pushed back before the door opened, Peyton resting a hip against the doorframe.

"Well, well. Look who's here. How's it going, Jailbird?"   
"That's funny, Aunt Peyton. Real funny. Can we go?"   
"Get in the house, Scott."

Peyton smiled as she stepped back, as Jamie dragged his feet into the house. Quinn stepped in behind him.

"I'll just go grab Ellie."   
"Sure, she's in her room."

Quinn walked down the hall, and Jamie brought his eyes to Peyton's. She tilted her head to the side, the gentle blonde curls bouncing as she slowly shook her head.

"I've got to hand it to you, Jamie Scott. You surprised me with this one."   
"Aunt Peyton—"   
"No, really. This is behavior I used to expect from your dad, but I thought you were different."

Jamie shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, people change."   
"My, my. The 'tude is strong with this one."

Jamie sighed, bringing his hand up to rub at his eyes, wincing when he touched the tender spot of his bruised eye socket, then looked to Peyton.

"Look, can I just see Lucas and get this over with?"

The smile on Peyton's face sent a chill down Jamie's spine.

"What? What is that face?"  
"What, this one?"

Peyton pointed to herself as a laugh bubbled out from her chest.

"Luke's not here right now."   
"What? Quinn insisted on driving over here … No. Oh, no. Oh, shit."

Peyton nodded.

"Yep. Someone else is here. And she's just dying to talk to you."

Quinn stood back as Peyton steered Jamie into the living room. She watched him swallow, then step towards the couch.

"Aunt Brooke, I—"   
"Don't speak. Sit."

Jamie swallowed again, opening his mouth. Brooke closed her eyes, holding up one hand. Jamie shut his mouth, and Brooke pointed to a chair. He sat down and she calmly smoothed out her skirt before looking up at him.

"James Lucas Scott, can you tell me—or even possibly just give me an inkling of a hint—as to what in God's name you were thinking the other night? A DUI, Jamie? What on earth possessed you to do that?"   
"In my defense—"   
"Let me stop you right there."

Peyton and Quinn turned away to stifle their laughter. Brooke shifted on the couch.

"You have no defense. Legal or otherwise."

Jamie sank back into his chair as Brooke spoke again.

"You, whether you want to be or not, are a pillar of this community. You are the child of two very important people, the product of an epic love story that I got to be a part of. And this is the way you choose to honor that?"   
"That's not fair."

Jamie was on his feet before anyone knew what was happening. His dark eyes blazed as he stared at Brooke.

"Don't you dare bring them into this."  
"They are in this whether you want them to be or not. Now sit down."

Jamie was breathing hard, broad shoulders rising and falling, and Brooke simply blinked.

"Sit down, Jamie."

He unclenched his fists, sitting back in the chair. He put his head in his hands, and Brooke leaned forward on the couch.

"Every single thing you do involves them. What happened to them was tragic and horrible, and it has followed you your entire life. It's doing the same with your sister."

Jamie squeezed his eyes shut, tightening the grip he had on his hair.

"She couldn't handle it."  
"No, she couldn't. And from where I'm sitting right now, neither can you."

Jamie lifted his head, a hard smile on his face.

"Well damn, Aunt Brooke. Let's just revisit all the hard spots, shall we? What are you going to talk about next? Quentin? Madison? Oh, hey. How's Julian?"   
"Jamie."

Jamie glanced behind him, and the look on Peyton's face made him stop. He swallowed around the lump that was forming in his throat and put his head back in his hands.

"I'm sorry."

His voice was quiet, and struck a chord in all the women's hearts. Brooke cleared her throat.

"I know you are. I also know that the Jamie Scott I know, my godson who I love more than he will ever have even the smallest idea of realizing, doesn't do things like get DUIs."

Jamie nodded, and Brooke leaned forward.

"What happened, Jamie?"

He shook his head, and Brooke did the same.

"No, come on, now. Talk to me. Tell me what happened, what led to this."

Jamie took in a shaky breath, lifting his head to look at Brooke, giving her a clear view of the tear tracks on his face.

"My little sister slit her wrists in a bathtub."

He shook his head.

"How does someone get to that point? Not only that, but how does it happen to Mom and none of us see it happening to Lydia?"

He choked back a sob, but wasn't able to stop the one at the end of his next sentence.

"Why wasn't I here?"

He put his head back in his hands and Brooke pushed up from the couch, walking over and wrapping an arm around him, cradling his head as he moved to rest his cheek against her shoulder. Peyton walked up behind them, laying a hand against Jamie's back. Quinn walked over, kneeling in front of him, placing her hands on his knees.

"Honey."

Jamie shook his head again, letting out another sob. Brooke looked tear-filled eyes to Peyton, then to Quinn, seeing identical expressions on their faces. Brooke gently rocked back and forth, and Jamie finally let his hands fall from his head to clutch at Brooke. He wrapped his arms around her, and she let out a sigh.

"Shh, honey."  
"I miss my mom, Aunt Brooke."

Brooke shut her eyes.

"I know, baby. I do, too."   
"We all do, honey."

Jamie reached back, squeezing Peyton's hand before he hugged Brooke again. He took in broken breaths, speaking softly.

"I couldn't help her. She was so sad, and I … I couldn't help her."   
"Jamie."

He shook his head, ignoring Quinn's shocked expression.

"The same thing happens to Lydia, and I couldn't help her either."   
"Stop it right now."

Jamie let out another sob, shaking his head.

"She needed me. She needed me and I didn't even notice it."

He sat up, pushing a hand through his hair.

"Then, when I saw her in the hospital, I just yelled at her."

He let out a breath.

"She is exactly like Mom, and I can't do anything about it."

Quinn squeezed his knees, and he glanced down at her. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, and she sniffled.

"Do you know when the last time I saw your mom smile was?"

Jamie shook his head.

"It was at you. Lydia was just a baby, barely walking, and she did something that just tickled you. You laughed and laughed, just doubled over laughing, and you looked back, at us. 'Mom, did you see her?' You could barely get the words out through how hard you were laughing. And I looked over, and Haley was smiling. She was staring at you, and she smiled, then she walked upstairs."

Jamie took in a hitched breath and Quinn smiled.

"You helped her more than you know. But sweetheart…"   
"It wasn't enough."   
"None of us was enough. There was nothing any of us could do for Haley. We tried. God knows we tried."

Peyton closed her eyes, turning away, and Brooke reached up and took her hand. Peyton squeezed it back, and Brooke looked to Jamie.

"We did the best we could, James."  
"But it wasn't enough."   
"No, it wasn't enough for Haley. But it is for Lydia."

Fresh tears filled his eyes as Brooke said her name.

"She is in a place where she can get the help she needs. And now, she's getting it. Exactly what she needs is being done for her."   
"But all this time she's been—"   
"That doesn't matter anymore. What matters is now, and that she's getting better. She's going to come home, Jamie, and soon, and we have another chance with her."

Jamie stared at Brooke, tears dripping down his face, and she reached up to brush one away with her thumb.

"We didn't get this chance with your mom, but we have it with Lydia. You can be there for her now, and what happened before can just be memories."

Peyton nodded as she turned around.

"Brooke's right. It doesn't matter what happened in the past, because it's over. It's gone, and we can't change it or get it back. But we can change what happens now."

Jamie nodded, letting out a shaky sigh. Brooke smiled at him, cupping his cheek in her hand. He closed his eyes, leaning over, wrapping his arms around her again. Brooke closed her eyes, letting her arms gently envelop him, holding him close.

* * *

 

Jamie sat on the bleachers at the Rivercourt, looking down at the court. He blinked as the lights came on, letting out a sigh. He shook his head, sitting up straighter as he heard a vehicle pull up. He stood up, making his way down the bleachers, relaxing when he recognized Jude's tall, more muscled than he remembered frame. They met up on the court, Jamie letting out a long sigh.

"Jude, I—"

Jamie blinked hard, shaking his head as pain radiated through his jaw. As another punch landed in his stomach, Jamie let out a pain-filled moan. Jamie pushed Jude away, lifting a hand to his aching jaw.

"What the hell, man?!"  
"She told me."

Jamie's head snapped back as Jude landed another punch. Jamie felt blood begin to pour from his nose and he blindly threw out an arm, taking some comfort in the groan Jude gave. It didn't last, though, as Jude's fist plowed into Jamie's chest. Jamie hit the ground, rolling onto his hands and knees, coughing as he tried to take in a breath. Jude was breathing hard, standing over him.

"She told me what you said to her when she was in the hospital, you son of a bitch."

Jude reached down, lifting Jamie by his shirt, tossing him into the bleachers, causing the air to rush out of Jamie's lungs again. Jude pressed Jamie back against the bleachers, getting right up in his face.

"She needed you. She was sick and hurting and she needed you, and all you could do was yell at her? Fuck you, you selfish bastard."

Jude groaned again as Jamie kneed him, and he backed away enough to give Jamie room to step away. Jamie pushed a hand through his hair, turning back and landing a punch on Jude's face.

"You should have told me. You should have called—"

Jamie dodged the punch, landing another of his own against Jude's face.

"You should have called me and told me how bad it was."  
"Because God knows you couldn't be bothered to come and see for yourself. Ow, you asshole!"

After Jamie landed a kidney shot, Jude got the upper hand again, landing rapid-fire punches in Jamie's stomach. Jamie managed to push him away again, gagging as he stepped over to a trashcan, leaning over it, spitting out blood. His teeth were stained with blood as he turned back, bending down to ram his shoulder into Jude's stomach, making Jude cry out as Jamie slammed him into the bleachers. Jamie pulled Jude forward, slamming him back a couple more times as he spoke.

"You were here. You should have helped her. You should have called me or told someone who was here. You had the perfect opportunity to help her, but you—"

Jamie's sentence cut off as Jude slammed his head into the bleachers at the same time that he landed his knee in Jamie's solar plexus. Jamie hit the ground again, and Jude limped a few steps away, shaking his head as he worked for breath.

"This … was not my fault. I was here. I helped her."   
"Not enough."

Jude cried out as he walked back over, punching the bleachers when Jamie dodged. Jamie twisted Jude's arm around, pinning him. Jude let out a harsh cry.

"Don't you try and push the blame on me! I wasn't the one who ran away first chance he got!"   
"I didn't run, you son of a bitch. I had a job."

Jamie cried out as Jude slammed his head back, and in that moment, Jamie knew his nose was broken. He also came to the realization that he and Jude were not both going to be walking away from this fight. Someone would win, and a sick part of him really hoped it would be Jude. As Jamie cradled his face in his hand, Jude was panting for breath.

"It wasn't … just the job. You … You know that as much … as I do."

Jamie ran for Jude again, ramming his shoulder again into Jude's stomach. Jude cried out, coughing, hissing in a breath as his back connected with a screw on the bleachers. Jamie shook his head, blood still pouring from his nose.

"Fuck you, Jude. You have no room to blame me."   
"Why the … fuck not? … You—goddamn it. You weren't … here."  
"I know it. And I hate myself for it."   
"Well, that … makes two of—of us."

Jude coughed, rubbing a hand against his chest. Jamie spit again, groaning when he saw the blood. He felt a tap on his shoulder, and he turned around, feeling his head snap to the side as Jude's punch landed on his cheek. He fell then, gasping when his head bounced off the concrete.

"Do us … both a favor… okay? … Don't play … the grieving brother now … when you couldn't bother … to act … like a real brother … before."

Jude limped away, and Jamie blinked at the lights on the court. How many were there before? When did they start making them double like that? Jamie blinked again, watching the lights grow dim, before they went out altogether.

* * *

 

"I thought Jamie was too old for a babysitter." 

Logan rolled his eyes as he looked over at Sawyer. She gave him a smile, propping her feet up on the dashboard.

"He doesn't need a babysitter, but he did nearly get arrested two nights ago. And get your feet off my dash. Jeez." 

Sawyer let out a laugh as they drove closer to the Rivercourt, letting her feet fall as she sat up straighter. 

"Is that Jude?"   
"What's he doing here?" 

Logan slowed the truck, and as they watched Jude collapse, Sawyer gasped. 

"Stop the car!" 

Logan threw it in park, scrambling out of the truck behind Sawyer. She was already running for Jude, and Logan hurried after her. Sawyer hit her knees beside Jude, moving to cradle his head in her lap. 

"Jude? What happened?"   
"Can't—can't breathe. Hurts."  
"What hurts?" 

Jude moved a hand to his chest, gasping for air. Logan shook his head, pulling out his phone. Sawyer looked up at him as he dialed 9-1-1. 

"Yeah, this is Logan Evans. I'm at the Rivercourt, and we need an ambulance." 

Jude tugged weakly on Sawyer's sleeve, and she looked back down at him. 

"What? Jude, what is it?"   
"Ja—Jamie."   
"Jamie? What are you—" 

Jude pointed a shaking hand over beside the bleachers. Sawyer took in a breath. 

"Logan, the court."

Logan turned around, seeing Jamie sprawled in the middle of the court. 

"Shit. There's two people here that need the ambulance. Please hurry!"

Logan rushed over, hitting his knees beside Jamie. 

"Jamie? Hey, open your eyes. Come on."   
"Logan!" 

He looked back, seeing Sawyer's blue eyes wide with fear, seeing Jude's face screwed up in pain as he scrabbled a hand at his chest. 

"Oh, God."


	12. What Might Have Been

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "What Might Have Been" by Little Texas

"Jamie Scott! Up and at 'em!"

Jamie blinked his eyes open, lifting a hand to his head as he groaned. What the hell did he do last night? He sat up, lifting his hand to his head again as he twisted his body to the side, setting his feet on the—freaking cold—floor. He pulled his feet back up, yawning widely, feeling an ache in his jaw as he did. He opened his eyes again, narrowing them as he looked around.

"What the hell?"

This was not right. How was he in his old bed? He'd outgrown it around the time he started high school. And he'd rearranged the room, once the new, not to mention much bigger, bed arrived. That Harry Potter poster had found its way into the trash around the same time. He heard an almost silent sound and his heart dropped. He stood up, walking over to his closet, opening the door and kneeling down. He gasped when he saw it, watched his shaking hand reach over, soon feeling the soft thump of a heart other than his own.

"Chester?"

The rabbit wiggled his nose, and Jamie let out a watery laugh. He swallowed, shaking his head.

"Chester, you … You died when I was in ninth grade. I remember. It was … I was so sad. Lydia cried for hours. She was five."

He shook his head, bending to let the rabbit back into his cage. He locked it, rubbing a hand over his face. He stood up, walking to the mirror. He looked the same. Still about six-foot-one, hair that was once sandy blonde, but gradually grew darker as he got older. Now, his hair was almost identical to what his father's had been. Just a bit darker than Lydia's chocolate brown. There was stubble on his face, because he hadn't shaved in a few days. Same blue eyes he'd always had. He shook his head, looking down at the gray Duke University long-sleeved t-shirt he was wearing, blue plaid pajama pants that matched. He shook his head again, speaking to his reflection.

"What the hell is going on?"

He opened his door, poking his head into the hall, looking down it. Lydia's door was closed, as was Riley's, but Logan's door was wide open. Jamie walked there, yawning again, stopping short when he saw the trains. Logan hadn't trains in his room since …

Logan had never had trains in his room. It had been superheroes, mainly X-Men, from the moment he'd moved in with Quinn and Clay.

Jamie shook his head, swallowing as he walked backwards, making his way down the stairs. There were noises coming from the kitchen, and he made his way there, stopping short to take in the sight.

"James Lucas Scott, why in the world are you still in your pajamas? You've got class in less than an hour."

His heart was going to beat right out of his chest. He knew it. There was a buzzing sound in his ears, and he knew he would pass out in just a few seconds. He walked over, gripping the counter, sitting down hard in one of the chairs at the bar. His mouth was dry, and his tongue felt thick in his mouth. Somehow, though, he spoke.

"Mom?"

* * *

 

Jude felt himself coming back to consciousness, vaguely aware of an incredible ache deep in his chest. He blinked his eyes open, noticing the ache in his head that nearly matched the one in his chest. He let out a quiet cough, hand coming up for his chest, but being stopped halfway there.

"Hey, it's okay. You're all right." 

Jude breathed hard for a few seconds, then opened his eyes.

"Mom?" 

Brooke smiled, reaching out to gently brush her fingers through Jude's hair. 

"Hey, there. You scared me." 

Jude blinked again, looking up at his mother with a confused look on his face. Brooke sighed. 

"You don't remember?" 

Jude relaxed back, finally recognizing the steady beep and hiss beside him. He glanced over, then back to Brooke. 

"Am I in the hospital?" 

Brooke nodded, pulling her chair back beside the bed she hadn't left since she got the call that her son was being transported to the Tree Hill Medical Center by ambulance. 

"Yeah, baby. Your lung collapsed, and you have a mild concussion." 

Jude shook his head. 

"I don't … I don't remember anything."   
"It's okay. The doctor said you might have some short-term memory loss." 

Jude shook his head again, then relaxed back against the pillows as his head gave a throb. 

"I don't know what happened."   
"That's okay. Just rest for me, all right?"

Jude nodded, his eyes suddenly heavy. Brooke rubbed her thumb across the back of his hand. 

"I'll be here." 

There was a soft knock at the door, and Owen stepped inside. Brooke let go of Jude's hand, standing up and letting Owen wrap her up in his arms. She let out a sigh as she rested her head against his chest, and Owen rested his head on top of hers. 

"How's he doing?" 

Brooke let out a sigh at Owen's quiet statement. 

"He just woke up for a second. He doesn't remember what happened." 

She leaned back, looking up at him.

"Any news on Jamie?" 

Owen shook his head. 

"Still no change." 

Brooke sighed, pushing her hands through her hair as she walked back to sit in her chair. Owen pulled a chair up beside her, taking her hand. 

"The plane should land in about an hour with Davis." 

Brooke nodded. 

"I knew he'd come back."   
"His brother's in the hospital, honey. Of course he's coming back." 

Brooke nodded again, looking at Jude. She took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly before she spoke. 

"I think I'm going to make Jude go back with him."   
"Really?" 

Brooke nodded, turning to face Owen. 

"Look at what happens when he's with me. Maybe Julian can help him. They have something in common here, you know." 

Owen nodded. Brooke had told him. 

"Maybe that will do him some good. Get away from here for a while, spend some time with his dad and Davis."   
"God, I hope so." 

Owen lifted Brooke's hand to his lips, gently kissing her knuckles. She sighed, taking her hand back from him and standing up, walking over and climbing into his lap, curling up against his chest. Owen smiled, laying an arm over her legs, using his other hand to play with her hair.

* * *

 

Quinn woke up when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked around, at the hospital bed she'd had her head resting on her arms. She lifted her head, and Clay gave her a small smile. She leaned up, looking at the sleeping form of her nephew in the bed, then let out a sigh as she sat back, taking the cup Clay handed her. 

"Cappuccino, since I know how you feel about full-throttle coffee."

Quinn smiled, taking a small sip of the warm liquid. Clay sat on the arm of Quinn's chair, taking a sip of his coffee and letting out a sigh.

"No change?" 

Quinn shook her head, fluffing out her hair with a hand before she took another sip of her coffee. 

"He still hasn't woken up yet." 

Clay sighed, finishing off his coffee and tossing the cup into the trash. He shook his head as he looked over at Jamie, at the bruising littering his face. 

"Jude woke up a little while ago. Just for a second, but he told Brooke he couldn't remember anything that happened. He went back to sleep right after." 

Quinn let out a sigh of her own then, and Clay leaned over, gently rubbing her shoulders.

"Peyton's got the girls. Owen's going to pick Davis up from the airport. God only knows where Lucas is, and Sawyer and Logan have set up camp in the waiting room down the hall." 

Quinn let out a quiet laugh as she shook her head, reaching a hand over to take hold of Jamie's hand. She gently held his hand, running a finger across the back of his hand. 

"He's so warm. I just … I don't understand what happened, or why he hasn't woken up yet."   
"It's the concussion, babe."   
"I know it is. I just … What could have possibly happened that would cause this?"

Clay swallowed, not giving Quinn a hint of what he thought happened. After seeing the bruises on Jamie's face and the matching bruises on Jude's knuckles… Clay had a pretty good idea of what had happened.

* * *

 

She stood in front of him, eyes narrowed, lips twisted to the side. He couldn't take his eyes from her, afraid to even blink, afraid she'd disappear. He swallowed at nothing in his dry throat, then spoke again. 

"Mom?" 

Haley blinked, shaking her head. 

"Why are you acting like you're seeing a ghost or something?"   
"You … Mom." 

Haley rolled her eyes, walking back over to the stove.

"You went out with your friends last night, didn't you? I could kick your butt, Jamie Scott. But I won't."

He stared at her, still unable to take his eyes from her. He shook his head. 

"This isn't right."   
"What isn't?" 

Jamie opened his mouth, stopping when a boy walked in, taking the seat beside him, giving Haley a smile when she slid the bowl of oatmeal in front of him. He began eating, and Jamie's mouth slipped open. The boy's hair was cinnamon-colored, but he had Haley's dark eyes. Jamie snapped his gaze back at Haley when she spoke. 

"Why are you staring at your brother like that?" 

Jamie's mouth fell open, before he glanced back at the boy beside him. The boy never looked up, He just continued to eat his oatmeal, methodically loading his spoon, eating the bite, repeating his actions. 

"He must be where the trains came from."   
"I like trains. Trains are cool." 

Jamie nodded. Haley let out a sigh, then stepped over across from the boy. 

"Hey." 

He set his spoon at the edge of his bowl, wiping his mouth with the napkin he had in his lap, then looked up at Haley. She gave him a smile, then nodded towards Jamie.

"Why don't you tell your brother about yourself?"

The boy gave her a nod before turning to Jamie. His eyes were dark, like his mother's, but they were so bright. 

"My name is Keith Durham Scott. I'm ten years old. My mother is Haley James Scott. Her middle name is Bob, but she doesn't give her middle name when people ask her what her name is. My father is Nathan Royal Scott, but he doesn't give his middle name either. I have one older brother, one older sister, and one younger sister. I'm in the fourth grade at Tree Hill Elementary School. Mom teaches there, but she doesn't teach me. I don't think I'd like it if she did teach me. She's my mom, not my teacher."  
"That's good, Keith. You did good."

Keith looked away from Jamie, to their mother.

"I did good?"   
"Yeah, buddy."  
"I made eye contact with him while I talked to him."   
"I noticed. It was very good."

Keith smiled. 

"I'm going to finish my oatmeal now."   
"Go ahead." 

He settled himself back in the chair, picking up his spoon, methodically filling it with oatmeal, sliding the spoon into his mouth, repeating the motions. Jamie looked over, seeing Haley smiling warmly at Keith, before bringing her eyes back to Jamie.

"Didn't he do a good job, Jamie?"

Jamie nodded, but Keith never looked his way. He never took his eyes from his oatmeal. When he was done, he wiped his mouth, pushing his chair back enough to climb down from it before pushing it back under the bar, moving it until it was perfectly straight. He walked to the sink, turning the water on, washing out his bowl and spoon before loading them into the dishwasher. He washed his hands, then turned to Haley.

"I'm going to get ready for school now."   
"Okay, honey." 

Keith left, walking up the stairs, and Jamie turned to his mother. Haley smiled as she shook her head.

"He is doing so much better. I'll admit, I never thought he'd do as well as he's doing. I had my reservations when Nathan insisted we put him in public school, but … We couldn't even get him to look at us for the longest time, do you remember?"

Jamie swallowed, looking down at the bar. After a moment, he was able to speak. 

"He's autistic, isn't he?" 

Haley nodded, sprinkling salt into whatever she was stirring at the stove.

"Not severely. Nowhere near as badly as we feared it would be. I mean, he was two before he walked, so… But you remember that. You were here. He walked to you."

Jamie swallowed, hard, squeezing his eyes shut. He looked up as footsteps sounded at the stairs. He smiled when he noticed his sister, and the smile faltered when he didn't recognize the little girl she held in her arms. 

"Okay, Mom. She was dying for the 'Anna braids,' so here we are."   
"Lyddie has a Elsa braid today!"

Jamie's eyes widened when he took in the tiny child Lydia was holding. She had a huge smile, white-blonde hair, and the bluest eyes Jamie had ever seen. Haley turned from the stove with a matching smile on her face. 

"But I thought we decided that you were Elsa. Because of your hair." 

The little girl lifted a shoulder.

"I want to be Anna today."

Haley laughed, leaning over to kiss the little girl's cheek, and Lydia's forehead.

"Good morning, my girls."   
"Good morning, Mom."   
"Good morning, Mommy! Good morning, Jamie." 

Jamie smiled when the little girl leaned over and pressed a smacking kiss to his cheek. Lydia set her in the chair beside Jamie, and she leaned forward, setting her elbows on the bar, putting her head in her little hands.

"Mommy, I'm hungry."   
"I know, little monster. It's almost ready."

The little girl smiled, and Haley narrowed her eyes. 

"Elbows, missy." 

The little girl sat back quickly, pulling her elbows from the counter.

"I thought that was only at the table."  
"It's bad manners to put elbows wherever you're eating, goofy." 

The little girl stuck her tongue out at Lydia, who rolled her eyes and put the orange juice back in the refrigerator. Jamie swallowed, finding his voice then. 

"I thought you didn't like orange juice." 

Lydia glanced back, over her shoulder.

"I don't. This is for the baby."   
"I'm not a baby! I'm four years old!"

Lydia let out a quiet laugh, screwing a top onto the sippy cup. She walked over, pressing a kiss to the top of the little girl's white-blonde hair. 

"I know you are. Such a big girl now." 

The girl looked up at Lydia with such adoration in her eyes that Jamie had to look away. This wasn't right. He didn't know what was happening, he didn't understand it, and it terrified him. All he knew was that this was not his life. 

"Hey, Scott family!" 

The little girl's blue eyes went wide, and she reached for Lydia, opening and closing her hands until Lydia lifted her from the seat and set her on the floor, and she took off running. Lydia walked back over to lean against the counter, and Haley just smiled as she stirred at the stove. Jamie felt his heart stop when the little girl threw out her arms as she rounded the corner again, held up high. 

"Daddy's home." 

Jamie heard the buzzing again, felt his heart stop in his chest when he saw who was holding the little girl. This time, though, he slid from the chair as he passed out.

* * *

 

"Mom?" 

Brooke opened her eyes, sitting up in her chair, turning to see who was talking to her. She stood up, walking over, taking her son that was so much taller than she was in her arms.

"Oh, Davis. I'm so glad to see you."  
"I missed you, Mom." 

Davis held her tightly, taking in a deep breath of her perfume, letting out a breath as he finally relaxed a little. Brooke moved back, taking Davis' face in her hands. 

"So tan. I'm so jealous." 

Davis let out a laugh, shrugging his shoulders. He looked to the bed, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat. 

"Is—is he—"   
"He's okay. His lung collapsed, so they had to put a chest tube in. They're thinking they may can take that out tomorrow, though. And he has a concussion." 

Davis nodded, not taking his eyes from his brother.

"And Jamie?" 

Brooke let out a sigh. 

"He's not doing so hot." 

Davis looked over to Brooke, who sighed again. 

"He hasn't woken up yet."  
"Has Jude?" 

Brooke nodded. 

"He did this morning, just for a minute." 

Davis nodded, looking back to his brother. His voice was small, quiet. 

"He's going to be okay, right, Mom?" 

He looked to her, tears shimmering in his blue eyes, and Brooke gave him a smile, though she had tears in her eyes, as well. She walked up, putting her arms around Davis' shoulders from behind, and he leaned against her. 

"He's going to be just fine, honey. I'm sure of it."

* * *

 

Jamie groaned as he felt himself coming back to consciousness. His head was pounding, and it throbbed in time with his heartbeat as he blinked his eyes open. Lydia stood over him, pretty eyes narrowed as she watched him watching her.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." 

Lydia rolled her eyes at his mumbled statement. 

"You bounced your head off the hardwood there, James. How are you feeling?"   
"Like shit."   
"You shouldn't say 'shit.' 'Shit' is a curse word."   
"Good going, Jamie." 

Jamie opened one eye to see Keith sitting on the couch across from him, hands folded in his lap. Jamie groaned, going to sit up.

"Uh-uh. Lay down."   
"Lyd, I'm fine."   
"Oh, okay. Sure. What just happened in the kitchen, that was you being fine?" 

Jamie sighed as he relaxed back again, looking down to see Keith fussing with the couch cushions at his feet. Jamie looked to Lydia, but she just waved a hand. 

"Anyway, how many fingers am I holding up?" 

Jamie rolled his eyes. 

"Seventeen."  
"That's impossible. Lydia only has ten fingers."  
"Keith, he was kidding. It was a joke." 

Lydia punched Jamie on the arm, speaking quietly to him. 

"You know he doesn't pick up on jokes and stuff."  
"Sorry." 

Lydia sighed when Keith moved up to the pillows behind Jamie. 

"Keith, the pillows are fine. Can you go tell Mom and Dad that Jamie's okay?" 

Keith stepped back, letting his hands fall to his sides. His voice was quiet, and he stared at the floor as he spoke.

"The pillows need to be straight. It looks nice if they're straight."   
"Jamie's laying on the pillows right now. It doesn't matter if they're straight." 

Keith didn't move, just stood there with his eyes cast down and his hands at his sides. Lydia sighed, pushing a hand to her hair, pushing her hair behind her ear. 

"Jamie, lean forward." 

He did as she asked, watching Keith as Lydia laid one finger under his chin, pushing gently until he raised his head. She fixed the pillows, fluffing them and straightening them behind Jamie, letting him roll back gently.

"There. Is that okay?" 

Keith nodded.

"I can go tell Mom and Dad that Jamie is okay."  
"Yeah, go do that." 

He nodded and walked off, and Lydia let her breath out. 

"You're good with him."  
"It doesn't feel that way sometimes."   
"No, you are. And the little one, too." 

Lydia smiled. 

"Well, she's easy to love. You scared the bejeezus out of her, though."   
"I didn't mean to."  
"I mean, you went hard, James. Eyes rolling back in your head and everything. Cassie was screaming, and Dad had to take her outside to get her to calm down. You should have seen me and Mom dragging you in here. That was a sight." 

Jamie smiled, moving just a bit, to relax back against the arm of the couch. 

"Cassie?" 

Lydia sighed. 

"Our baby sister, James. Cassandra Deb Scott. Cassie for short."   
"Cassandra. Hell of a name." 

Lydia nodded. Jamie stared at the ceiling for a minute before he spoke again. 

"Keith said his middle name was Durham."

Lydia nodded again.

"Yeah, after Dad's old basketball coach. They couldn't name the kid Whitey, so they went with Durham."  
"And he's ten?"   
"Yeah. Jamie, how hard did you hit your head?" 

Jamie shook his head. 

"Just … Just humor me. So Keith was born when you were … what, six?"

Lydia nodded. 

"Yeah. And Cassie was born when I was twelve. She was a surprise, though."   
"So you're six years older than Keith, and he's six years older than Cassie is."  
"And then there's you, old man." 

Jamie rolled his eyes, and Lydia just smiled. 

"I'm so much older than Cassie."  
"Yeah, you kept telling Mom and Dad that you couldn't babysit or anything, because everyone would say that she was your kid."   
"Yeah, because I was … Jesus, twenty-one?"   
"Well, that's what you get when your parents get married in high school."

Jamie put a hand up to his forehead, settling it gently, sighing when he didn't feel any pain. Lydia smiled as she spoke. 

"The grief that Uncle Lucas and Aunt Brooke gave Mom and Dad when Mom told them she was pregnant again…" 

Lydia shook her head with a laugh. Jamie smiled softly.

"What did Aunt Peyton say?" 

He looked over to see the smile slide from Lydia's face.

"Jamie…" 

She sighed, pushing her hair behind her ear again. 

"You know this."   
"No, I … I really don't." 

Lydia sighed again. 

"Aunt Peyton died when I was eight." 

Jamie sat up, swallowing hard. 

"She did?" 

Lydia nodded. 

"She had breast cancer, just like her mom. Jamie, you know this!"   
"No, I—I don't, Lyd. I can't remember it."   
"Did you give yourself amnesia?" 

Jamie rolled his eyes. 

"I don't know, I guess so. Humor me." 

Lydia rolled her eyes back at him. 

"Aunt Peyton got sick when Sawyer and I were six. Right after Keith was born, actually. She died when we were eight, and Ellie was five."

Lydia took in a breath, letting it out before she spoke. 

"Julian took off right after Peyton died, and he and Aunt Brooke got a divorce. Aunt Brooke and Uncle Lucas got married on Valentine's Day when we were eleven, and had Peyton Victoria in December that year. Cassie was born the next year." 

Jamie sat back against the arm of the couch.

"Christ." 

Lydia watched him as she spoke again. 

"So, just to keep score, in that house there's Lucas and Brooke. Sawyer and Ellie. Davis and Jude. And Tori."   
"What about Megan?"  
"Who's Megan?"

Jamie closed his eyes, speaking softly to himself. 

"They never had Meg."   
"Who didn't?"   
"Brooke and Julian."   
"No, they just had the twins. Davis and Jude."

Jamie shook his head.

"Where are Clay and Quinn?"

Lydia let out a breath.

"Clay runs the Fortitude office in New York. Aunt Quinn has the chicest gallery and office in SoHo. Logan just got traded to the Cubs." 

Jamie sat up. 

"Cubs? Chicago? Wait, baseball?" 

Lydia nodded, and Jamie sat back. 

"But Logan plays football."  
"Logan's a sports guy. But baseball is his thing."   
"And basketball's mine." 

Lydia snorted. 

"Yeah, okay."   
"What? What's that snark for?" 

Lydia shook her head, shrugging her shoulders. 

"You are like … the epitome of white boys can't jump. That's why you coach, James."  
"Coach? What are you talking about?"

Lydia held her hands out. 

"Seriously, how hard did you hit your head?" 

Jamie gave an exasperated sigh, and Lydia held her hands up.

"Okay, okay. Down, boy. You're finishing up your Masters at Duke in Kinesiology. You coach and teach P.E. at Tree Hill High." 

Jamie sat back against the arm rest, shaking his head. 

"That's … No, I'm in the NBA. I play for the Orlando Magic."   
"Wow, that's a cute dream." 

Jamie blew out his breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. 

"Lyd, something's happening here. Something bad."   
"Yeah. You obviously smashed your head hard enough to give yourself amnesia or something."

Jamie let out another exasperated breath.

"Listen to me. This isn't real life. I don't know what the hell this is, but it's not real."  
"James, you're freaking me out. Stop."   
"No, you have to listen to me." 

He reached over, taking her hands in his. She looked down, then back up to his eyes.

"You're sick. You had a—kind of a mental break, so you're in this place in Columbia. I came back to Tree Hill and got in trouble, and I … I don't remember what happened, but it had to have been something bad."

Lydia listened to him, nodding slowly, then pulled her hand away. 

"So you think I'm crazy, yet you're the one on the couch because you passed out as soon as you saw our father. Not to mention that you have no idea who anyone is or anything about our family, but I'm the crazy one?" 

She shook her head as she stood up, smoothing out the skirt she was wearing.

"I have to go to school. Maybe you can get your reality check before we get home." 

Jamie swallowed hard as she walked out of the room. Haley walked in, holding Cassie in her arms, bending to press a kiss to Jamie's forehead. 

"See, honey? He's fine." 

Cassie stuck her thumb in her mouth as she laid her head on her mother's shoulder. Haley pointed at Jamie.

"You're skipping class today. Lounge around. Don't get into any trouble, or the cookies in the cabinet. And let your dad rest some. He had a long flight." 

Haley turned away, putting her purse on her shoulder. 

"Hey, Mom?" 

Haley turned back, both arms around the little girl on her hip. Jamie swallowed, nodding at her. 

"I love you." 

She smiled at him, the wide closed-mouth smile he'd missed so much. 

"I love you too, you crazy kid." 

She turned away, and Jamie could hear Cassie talking as the front door opened.

"I could use a cookie from the cabinet."   
"Not a chance, sister." 

Jamie pushed his hands through his hair, shaking his head. He sat up, pushing his hands through his hair again, stopping when his head throbbed. He let his breath out in a hiss, grabbing onto his side as pain shot through there, as well.

"Easy. Take it easy." 

Jamie gasped as he heard his father's voice, as he felt his gentle hands on his shoulders. Jamie reached up and grasped Nathan's arms, tears coming to his eyes.

"Dad."   
"Take it easy, son. Everything's okay. I'm right here." 

Jamie let out a sob, the pain in his heart almost overtaking the power of the pain in his head. He could feel Nathan gently rubbing his back, and he crumpled in on himself, letting the tears come. Nathan helped him sit up, then took Jamie in his arms.

"It's okay, Jamie. Just breathe."

* * *

 

"Just breathe, honey." 

Quinn stared at the monitor as she watched Jamie's heart rate spike. She kept on gently rubbing his shoulder, squeezing his hand. 

"Come on, Jamie. Calm down." 

The nurse pushed a syringe of something into Jamie's IV, and Quinn let out a breath of relief when his heart rate finally started to slow. She shook her head at the nurse. 

"I don't know what happened. He was fine, and then…"   
"No one really understand what goes on when a patient is in a state like he is." 

Quinn nodded, and the nurse left the room. 

"Oh, Jamie, Jamie, Jamie." 

Quinn shook her head, sitting back in her chair. 

"Come back to us, Jimmy-Jam."

* * *

 

"You back with me, bud?" 

Jamie nodded, shooting his father a sheepish look. 

"Sorry I kind of lost it there for a minute." 

Nathan shrugged his shoulders. 

"It happens. You feeling better?" 

Besides the fact that he couldn't take his eyes from the man he'd once worshiped, the man he'd missed as though a part of himself had been missing for the past sixteen years?

"Yeah, I am, actually." 

Nathan smiled, patting Jamie's leg as he stood up. 

"As much as I love you, kid … I'm exhausted." 

Jamie nodded, watching as Nathan yawned, walking towards the stairs. 

"Hey, Dad?" 

Nathan turned back, locking eyes with Jamie, who just gave him a smile. 

"Nothing. Have a good nap." 

Nathan snorted. 

"Stop acting like your mother, you weirdo." 

Jamie let out a laugh as Nathan walked up the stairs. He closed his eyes, opening them again to see the photo album on the coffee table. He picked it up, setting it on his lap, going through pictures he didn't recognize of a family he didn't remember having. He gently drew a finger over pictures of Peyton, as he watched her gradually get thinner, watched her hair disappear, until there were no more pictures of her. Julian was in some of the pictures, and then suddenly, he wasn't. Jamie just shook his head when he got to the pictures of Brooke and Lucas together, because he just couldn't imagine them together, even if they had been when they were back in high school. He saw pictures of a beautiful little girl with Brooke's dark hair, and Lucas' blue eyes. There were pictures of the kids as they grew up, Lydia, the twins, Sawyer. Jamie couldn't find any pictures of Riley, and it hurt his heart to think of her and Megan. They had never been born in this world. 

He didn't like it.

Well, not all of it. He loved his parents. As shocked as he had been to see them, he never wanted to let them out of his sight. And Lydia seemed happy here. As a throb of pain shot through his head again, he set the photo album back on the table. He rubbed a hand at his temple, taking in a breath through his teeth. He stretched back out on the couch, laying his arm over his eyes, trapped again between the pain pressing against his skull and the pain in the middle of his chest.

* * *

 

Davis sat in the chair beside Jude's bed, his feet propped up on the bed, hands laced together over his stomach as he watched his brother sleep. Jude wasn't sleeping easy anymore, and Davis was hoping this meant he'd wake up soon. The chest x-ray they'd done that morning hadn't been what the doctor was hoping for, so the tube was still in Jude's chest. Once he woke up properly, they'd discuss what the best options would be. Davis leaned his head back, letting out a deep breath, letting his eyes drift close. 

"Get your feet off my bed, asshole." 

Davis' eyes snapped open as he sat up, both feet landing on the floor.

"Jude?" 

Jude blinked his dark eyes open, frowning at the oxygen in his nose. A shaky hand lifted, and Davis was on his feet, shaking his head.

"Leave it. It's okay." 

Jude blinked at him, and Davis couldn't help the smile. 

"Hey, brother. You scared me."

Jude shook his head. 

"What happened?"   
"You don't remember?" 

Jude glanced around, shaking his head. 

"Must not be good, since I'm here. And you're here."   
"Yeah, nice going, pulling me away from nice, warm, sunny Cali."   
"I'd flip you off, but I just don't have the energy." 

Davis laughed quietly, pulling the chair closer to the bed.

"Apparently, and this is all secondhand info from Mom, Sawyer and Logan found you and Jamie at the Rivercourt. Your lung collapsed, and you have a pretty nasty concussion. Nowhere near as gnarly as the one Jamie has, though."   
"How is he?" 

Davis let out a sigh. 

"Not too good. He hasn't woken up yet."

Jude narrowed his eyes. 

"How—how long have we been here?"   
"Three days."  
"Shit." 

He coughed, letting out a gasp, one hand scrabbling at his chest until Davis grabbed it. 

"Easy. There's a tube in your chest. It's probably going to hurt like a bitch for a while."   
"No kidding." 

Jude coughed again, squeezing Davis' hand as Davis whispered to him. 

"Take it easy. Everything's all right."

Jude finally let out a ragged sigh, resting back against the pillows as he looked up at his brother.

"Where's Mom?"  
"She's been keeping vigil here for as long as you've been here. I made her go home last night to get some sleep, and she hasn't made it up here yet. She's bound to be exhausted, but I'm sure she'll come walking through those doors any second now." 

Jude nodded, glancing over at the monitors beside his bed.

"You think you could grab a nurse for me?" 

Davis flashed him a smile. 

"Have you met me?" 

Jude rolled his eyes, clutching his chest when he coughed again. Davis walked up to him, nodding towards the door as it opened and a nurse walked in. 

"Well, well. Look who's finally up!"

Jude managed a weak smile, and Davis pointed towards the hallway. Jude nodded, and Davis pulled his phone from his pocket. He dialed the number to their house, smiling when a deep voice answered the phone. 

_"Hello?"_  
"Well, look who's answering phones like he lives in the place."

Laughter rumbled through the line. 

_"Davis Baker. To what do I owe this honor?"_   
"He's awake, Owen. Tell Mom that he's up."   
_"That's great. She'll be glad to hear that. We were just about to head that way."_   
"I knew it." 

Davis shook his head, then glanced down the hall. 

"Hey, Owen, you remember what we talked about?"   
_"Yeah, kid."_   
"Do you think …?"   
_"It's on the way."_

Davis closed his eyes. 

"Thank you, Owen."   
_"_ _ It was a genius idea. I just got the ball rolling."  _

Davis nodded as he heard Owen moving around.

_"Hey, I hear your mom. Do you want to tell her?"_   
"Yeah, I can do that." 

After a moment, Brooke's worried voice filled the line.

_"Davis? Is everything okay?"_   
"He's awake, Mom." 

Davis heard Brooke gasp. 

_"He is? Is he all right?"_  
"Yeah, he's fine. A nurse is with him right now. He still doesn't remember anything, but…"   
_"But he's awake. Oh, thank God."_

Davis smiled as he heard Brooke mumbling to Owen. 

_"Honey, we'll be up there in a few minutes, okay?"_   
"Okay. Love you, Mom."   
_"I love you, too. And tell Jude that I love him."_  
"I will." 

Davis ended the call, stepping back into the room as the nurse left. Jude looked up, giving him a nasty face, and Davis couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. 

"What?"  
"She stuck me. Treated my arm like a damn vampire or something."   
"Oh, get off it. You're fine."

Jude looked away, and Davis laughed again. 

"Mom and Owen are on their way here. She said to tell you she loves you."

Jude nodded, lifting a hand to his chest again. Davis let out an exasperated breath as he moved over to take hold of Jude's hand. 

"Stop it. Leave it alone."  
"It feels weird. And it hurts."   
"God, you're such a baby when you're sick."  
"I'm not sick. I'm hurt." 

Davis rolled his eyes, letting Jude's hand go. 

"Leave it alone."

Jude nodded, and Davis sat back in his chair, lacing his fingers together over his flat stomach. 

"You really don't remember what happened to you?" 

Jude leaned back, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. 

"I remember Mom telling me that Jamie got arrested."  
"Whoa, pause. Rewind. Jamie got arrested?" 

Jude squinted his eyes, then nodded. 

"There was a party at Duke… The details are kind of fuzzy. But he was …"

Jude glanced over to the corner of the room.

"He was at the Rivercourt, and I had to get to him."   
"What for?"  
"I don't … I don't remember." 

Davis nodded, watching as Jude thought, until he let out a pained breath. Davis sighed. 

"Do you want me to get the nurse?"

Jude shook his head.

"She said she'd be right back with some pain meds."

Davis nodded, and Jude closed his eyes. 

"Davis, I don't have a good feeling about this." 

Davis let out a breath.

"Me either."

Jude nodded, keeping his eyes closed. Davis reached over, gently patting Jude's leg.

"I'm here, man. Just try and rest."

* * *

 

When Brooke and Owen arrived at the hospital, he left her alone with her sons and walked down the hall. He gently knocked on a door, opening it and sticking his head inside. He smiled at the warm smile that crossed Quinn's face.

"Hey, Owen."   
"Hey." 

He stepped inside, shaking Clay's hand before walking over and laying his hands on Quinn's shoulders. 

"How's he doing?" 

Quinn sighed. 

"Not much different. He had a rough episode a little while ago, but…"   
"No news is good news, right?" 

Owen shared a forced smile with Clay. When Quinn looked to the bed, Owen motioned with his head, and Clay nodded. He walked up behind Quinn, as Owen slipped out the door.

"Hey, Q? We're going to go get a cup of coffee, okay?"   
"Okay. I'll be here." 

Clay sighed, bending to press a kiss to the top of Quinn's head. He closed the door behind him, falling into step beside Owen. 

"Did you get it?" 

Owen nodded. 

"Davis wants to join us." 

Clay nodded. 

"Do you think we need to get Skills or someone to watch it with us?"   
"Maybe after?" 

Clay nodded again, and Owen stopped outside Jude's room. 

"Let me grab Davis and we'll go out to Brooke's car." 

A few minutes later, Owen, Clay, and Davis were in the backseat of Brooke's car, with the DVD footage from the security cameras at the Rivercourt in the DVD player. Owen took in a deep breath, then pressed play.

"Okay, there's Jamie." 

Clay and Owen nodded when Davis pointed, seeing Jamie walk onto the court, standing there for a moment before walking up the bleachers and sitting there. He stayed there for a while, as the sun went down and the lights came on, long enough for Owen to fast-forward the DVD just a bit, until Clay pointed. 

"Hang on, there's a car."   
"It's Jude." 

They watched the car come to a stop and Jude get out, and they saw Jamie walk down the bleachers to meet him on the middle of the court. And they all sucked in a breath as they watched Jude throw the first punch.

"Goddamn it, Jude." 

Davis swallowed, rubbing a hand over his lips as they watched Jamie and Jude beat the living hell out of each other. Clay shut his eyes when he watched Jamie's head bounce off the concrete, and Davis sucked in a breath when he saw Jude collapse. Owen cleared his throat. 

"There's Sawyer and Logan."

They all watched as Sawyer knelt beside Jude, watched Logan as he pulled out his phone and dialed 9-1-1 before he noticed Jamie. They watched the ambulances drive up, and when they sped away, Owen stopped the DVD. Davis hung his head, rubbing a hand over his hair. Clay dragged his hands down his face as he let out a breath. Owen rubbed at his beard, letting out a sigh.

"What do we do now?" 

Davis sounded so much like a little boy that Owen reached back and draped an arm around him. Clay looked up, shaking his head.

"I guess we need to tell everyone." 

Davis sighed. 

"My mom and Quinn?"   
"And Jude." 

Davis pushed his hands through his hair. Owen squeezed his arm. Clay let out a sigh, reaching over and squeezing Davis' shoulder before he left the car. Davis lifted his head when Clay was gone. 

"Owen, this is bad." 

Owen let out a breath. 

"Yeah, bud. Yeah, this is bad."


	13. One More Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "One More Day," by Diamond Rio

Quinn turned back from her spot in the chair when the door opened. A smile crossed her face when she saw Clay, and her eyes softened when she saw the forced smile on his face. She glanced at the bed, where Jamie slept, completely still, and set his hand back by his side. She stood up, walking over to Clay. He motioned with his head.

"Riley's down the hall. She wants to sit with him for a minute."

Quinn nodded, and Clay let out a sigh.

"And we need to talk about something."

She met his eyes, slowly nodding. Clay left, coming back a few minutes later with Riley. Quinn kissed the top of her head, waiting for Riley to settle in the seat beside Jamie's bed before she followed Clay out the door. He led her into a conference room, shutting the door behind him. He ran a hand over his face, then turned to her. She had her arms crossed over her chest.

"This is something bad, isn't it?"

Clay let out a sigh as he nodded.

"Q, we uh … We got the footage from the security cameras at the Rivercourt."

Quinn nodded slowly, then lifted her eyes to Clay.

"So you saw it? You know what happened?"

Clay nodded. Quinn blinked as she looked at him.

"Clay, what happened?"

He took in a breath, walking over to her, gently taking hold of her arms.

"Jamie was sitting in the bleachers, and uh … Jude drove up. Jamie met him on the court, and Jude …"

He looked down, letting out a long sigh before he lifted his eyes to Quinn's again, speaking softly.

"Jude punched him in the face."

Quinn went still, and Clay kept going.

"They fought, for a while, just … beating the shit out of each other, and Jamie fell, and hit his head on the concrete. Jude collapsed like a minute later, and that's when Sawyer and Logan drove up."

Quinn nodded slowly, turning her head just a bit, looking away from Clay, blue eyes fixed on a corner of the room. Clay brought his hand up to her face, but she didn't move.

"Q? Babe, do you understand what I'm saying to you?"

Quinn nodded again, just as slowly, before bringing her eyes back up to Clay's.

"Jude almost killed Jamie."  
"What? No. No, Q, he—they fought."  
"And Jude started it."

Clay glanced away, closing his eyes. Quinn stepped out of his grasp.

"Jamie is here because of Jude."  
"Quinn—"  
"Call Skills. He's not getting away with this."

Quinn walked out of the room, letting the door slam behind her. Clay closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh, pushing both hands through his hair before he laced his fingers together behind his head, just standing there.

* * *

 

Brooke sat beside Jude on the bed, one hand loosely holding his. Davis and Owen stood at the foot of the bed, and Davis couldn't make eye contact with anyone in the room, despite Owen's arm around his shoulders. Brooke and Jude couldn't take their eyes from Owen, and Brooke finally shook her head.

"No, there … There has to be some mistake."

Owen sighed.

"I wish there was, but the footage—"  
"No. No, I want to see it."  
"Okay. I've got the DVD in the car."  
"Go get it. Bring it up here right now."

Owen nodded, stepping out of the room. Davis lifted his head, to see Brooke stand up, pushing her hands through her hair as she turned away from her sons. Jude was lying motionless on the bed, his head leaning back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. Brooke turned back around, shaking her head.

"We are not going to panic."

Davis closed his eyes, waiting a moment before opening them again. It was quiet after that, until Owen came back in, the DVD in one hand and Brooke's laptop in his other. He helped set it up on the bed, and Davis walked around, standing back as Brooke and Jude watched the footage. When they watched Jude punch Jamie for the first time, they both sucked in a breath. As the video came to an end, Brooke put her face in her hands. Jude leaned his head back again, staring at the ceiling once more. Davis sat in the chair, lacing his fingers together in front of his mouth while Owen ejected the DVD and packed the laptop back up. Brooke looked up, tears staining her cheeks.

"What do we do?"

Owen sighed, rubbing his hand across his chin.

"Honestly?"

Brooke looked to him, and Davis lifted his eyes. Owen let out a sigh.

"If I were you, I'd call my lawyer."

* * *

 

Clay had caught up with Quinn halfway down the hall, leading her back to the conference room. She was pacing while he stood with a hip against the table in the middle of the room. Quinn shook her head, coming to a stop and turning to face him.

"You watched it?"

Clay nodded. A smile crossed her face, one devoid of any ounce of happiness, and she shook her head.

"Then why are you just standing there?"  
"It's not that simple."  
"Make it simple."

He just looked at her, and she blew out her breath as she resumed her pacing. After a few minutes, she turned back to face him.

"It's basic assault, right?"  
"Quinn."  
"Not to mention the fact that Jamie is fighting for his life right now. Did you forget that? How he hasn't woken up yet?"  
"No, I haven't forgotten it. It's the only damn thing I can think about."

Clay stepped away from the table, walking over to stand in front of one of the frosted windows. He shook his head.

"We don't know the whole story."  
"What's to know?! Jude hit Jamie, and now Jamie has a massive concussion."  
"Quinn, it is not that cut-and-dry and you know it, so stop making it out to be."

She set her jaw, nodding at him.

"So you just want to let him walk?"

Clay let out an incredulous laugh.

"Christ, Quinn! We're not talking about some hardened criminal here! This is Jude. We've watched him grow up. He's the love of Lydia's life, you know?"

Quinn covered her mouth with her hands for just a moment, before clasping them together as she turned to face him.

"And he's almost killed her brother."

She held her hands out.

"Seems pretty cut-and-dry, doesn't it?"

Clay hung his head, letting out a breath.

"It's not that—"  
"If Jamie doesn't wake up, it will be Jude's fault. I can't just stand here and let that be okay."

Clay nodded slowly, speaking before he brought his eyes up to his wife's.

"So you want to press charges against the seventeen-year-old?"

Quinn turned around as she lifted her hands to her hair, lifting it, then letting it fall. She turned back, staring Clay right in the eye.

"Yes. Yes, I do."

* * *

 

Davis sat in the chair beside Jude's bed. Brooke and Owen had walked out earlier, making Davis promise to keep the door shut, not letting anyone but medical personnel inside. Jude hadn't moved from his position of staring at the ceiling. Davis' mind was racing, and he lifted his head when he heard the soft words from his twin.

"Jamie could die."

Davis didn't know how to answer that, so he didn't say a word. He watched as Jude swallowed, before he spoke again.

"Jamie may never wake up, and it … it will be because of me."  
"Jude—"

Jude slowly shook his head, and Davis watched as a tear slowly slid out of the corner of his brother's eye.

"How could she ever forgive me for that?"

Davis didn't need to ask who Jude was talking about. Lydia. It was always Lydia. He swallowed as Jude continued to speak.

"She doesn't have anyone, and I might have taken away the one person she … How could I have—"

Jude choked on the sob, shaking his head. Davis stood up, walking over and taking Jude's hand. Jude squeezed his eyes shut, but the tears still flowed down his face. After a moment, Davis spoke, his voice laced with tears.

"He's not going to … He'll be fine. He's going to wake up and we'll laugh about all this."

Jude shook his head.

"He could die, Davis. And that's all—it's all my—"

He started gasping, and Davis let out a breath before he stood up from the bed.

"Take it easy."

Jude continued to gasp, frantic eyes going to his brother.

"Slow. Slow down. Breathe in and out, Jude. Jude, breathe out."

Jude shook his head, and Davis glanced up at the monitor as it began to alarm.

"Damn it, Jude, breathe out. You're okay."

Jude began to cough, reaching a hand up to his chest, frantically shaking his head. The door opened as a nurse hurried in, walking to the opposite side of the bed from Davis. She lowered the bed a bit, reaching to grab the oxygen mask on the wall, looping it over Jude's head.

"Take in a deep breath for me, Mr. Baker."

Jude shook his head as he coughed and gagged, as the monitors beside the bed continued to ring out. Davis gripped Jude's hand.

"Breathe, Jude. Come on."

He just kept coughing, and the nurse pressed a button. A minute later, another nurse and a doctor hurried into the room. Medical terminology that Davis didn't understand was tossed around, and one of the nurses left the room, only to come back with a syringe. The doctor stepped beside Davis, taking Jude's hand from him.

"Mr. Baker, we're going to give you something to calm you down. Try and relax for me."

Jude gagged again, and the doctor pushed the medicine through the IV in Jude's hand. A few seconds later, Davis watched as Jude's eyes grew heavy, as he finally took in a breath and let it back out. His eyes drifted shut and the monitor finally went silent. Davis looked to the doctor, who let out a sigh.

"He'll be all right. The medicine should keep him out for a while now. Try not to let him get riled up like that again."

Davis nodded as the doctor and the nurses left the room. He sank into the chair, pushing his hands through his hair. Brooke and Owen walked in and found him like that, Jude fast asleep, but nowhere near peacefully. Brooke touched Jude's hand, then knelt in front of Davis.

"Hey."

He gave a quiet sob, and Brooke let out a sigh.

"Baby…"

Davis lifted his head, his face red and soaked with tears.

"He couldn't breathe. He was just laying there, gasping for breath, looking at me, and I couldn't do anything. I couldn't help him, Mom, and I just … It's too much."

Brooke leaned forward, taking Davis in her arms. She maneuvered him around to where she was sitting on the chair with him, holding his head to her shoulder, letting him cry as she stroked his hair. Owen pushed his hands through his hair, still just as thick as it used to be, but more salt than pepper now. He shook his head, walking over and laying a hand on Brooke's shoulder, closing his eyes when she turned her head and pressed her lips to his knuckle.

* * *

 

Jamie woke up on the couch in the living room, the couch he knew Clay and Quinn had gotten rid of shortly after Haley died. They'd had to, after they'd found Jamie frantically trying to move it, before he had a full-out panic attack so bad that he'd passed out. He'd woken up in his room, with Quinn standing over him, smiling gently, telling him they'd get new things tomorrow. He shook his head, sitting up, absently fixing the pillows so that Keith would be happy. He turned forward, jumping slightly when he saw the tiny, pixie-like girl sitting on the footrest in front of him.

"Hey, Cassie."

She tilted her mouth to the side, something Haley did all the time, reaching up to push strands of her white-blonde hair out of her face.

"Are you feeling better?"

Jamie nodded, closing his eyes as the pounding in his head became more pronounced. He let out a breath, then lifted his head, putting a smile on his face.

"I'm good. How are you?"

She smiled.

"I'm good. I can write a C. C is for Cassie."  
"Is it now?"

She nodded.

"Just like J is for Jamie, L is for Lydia, K is for Keith, M is for Mommy and D is for Daddy."

Jamie smiled.

"You sure are smart."  
"Thanks."

She swung her little legs off the edge of the footrest and Jamie let out a laugh. Cassie lifted her head to look at him.

"Mommy said dinner was almost ready, so you need to get your lazy bones up."

Jamie let out a laugh, then nodded. He stood to his feet.

"Hey! Don't forget me!"

He glanced down, at the little arms outstretched, reaching up for him. He swallowed, then bent to pick her up, feeling as if he was carrying a loaf of bread instead of his little sister. She laid her head on his shoulder as he carried her into the kitchen, and he stopped suddenly when he saw Haley at the stove. She glanced back, like she knew they'd be there, and smiled.

"There they are. Good job, sister."

Cassie smiled, pointing to the chair at the bar. Jamie walked over, setting her in it, and Cassie took the cup Lydia handed her as Lydia came into the kitchen, pressing a kiss to the top of white-blonde hair.

"So Sawyer's miserable."

Haley let out a laugh.

"Oh, I just bet she is. As hot as it is outside? Ugh, I remember those days."  
"What days?"

Haley and Lydia exchanged a glance, before Haley gave a pointed look to the little girl who was focused on the small bowl of grapes in front of her. Lydia cleared her throat.

"The B-A-B-Y."

Jamie stood still for a minute, before his mouth dropped open. Haley put a finger to her lips, then pointed to Cassie. Cassie leaned backwards, glancing up at him.

"I don't know how to spell yet. But if Keith's here, he'll tell me what they're spelling so I can know, too."

Lydia rolled her eyes.

"Secrets don't do well in this house."  
"Hey, munchkin."

Cassie looked over to Haley, who tossed her head to he left.

"Go tell your brother and your dad ten minutes until dinner."

Cassie nodded, holding her arms out to Jamie. He lifted her from the chair, setting her on the floor, watching as she ran off on her tiptoes, two white-blonde braids bouncing behind her. He turned to Lydia, holding out his hands. Lydia looked to Haley, who just laughed as she turned around.

"See? I told you, he's got amnesia."

Haley waved a hand behind her and Lydia let out a sigh.

"Sawyer's pregnant. Due really soon, actually."  
"What?"

Lydia nodded, reaching into the fridge for a bottle of water.

"Yep. She's giving the baby up, though."  
"And why anyone would give a baby to Rachel Gatina, I'll never know. Sorry. Rachel Gatina Scott."

Lydia rolled her eyes, and Jamie blinked. Lydia shrugged her shoulders.

"Rachel wants a baby. Why wouldn't Grandpa Dan want to raise his own … what, great-grandchild? How weird."

Jamie shook his head.

"Grandpa is alive?"

Haley and Lydia both let out a laugh.

"Yeah, James. Grandpa got a new heart a few years back and he's never been better."  
"Well, that's debatable. But if there's one thing I know, it's that Dan adores you kids. And he'd do the same to Sawyer and Ellie, if Lucas would let him."

Jamie shook his head.

"But everything with Uncle Keith—"

He stopped when Haley put a hand on his chest.

"We don't talk about that. Ever."

Jamie swallowed, nodding his head. Lydia narrowed her eyes, then shrugged her shoulders, drinking her water. Jamie looked to Haley, speaking under his breath.

"She doesn't know, does she?"

Haley gave an almost-imperceptible shake of her head.

"Does Sawyer?"

Haley nodded.

"But she's never forgiven Lucas for marrying Brooke. Perfect way to get back at him is to give the man he hates her baby, knowing full well that Rachel and Dan will let her see the baby anytime she wants."  
"She lives with them now, Mom. Did I tell you that?"

Haley turned to Lydia, mouth open.

"You're kidding me."

Lydia shook her head.

"Moved into the big house yesterday."

Haley shook her head, turning back to the stove, shutting it off.

 _"'Oh, what a tangled web we weave.'"_  
"Shakespeare, Hales?"

Haley turned to Nathan, giving him a dazzling smile.

"I'll tell you later."

Nathan was holding Cassie, and made her giggle when he nuzzled her neck. He set her in a chair, pushing it up to the table. Lydia stepped over to Jamie, shaking her head.

"I swear, the child's feet never touch the ground."

She took a seat beside Cassie, and Keith walked into the room.

"I washed my hands."

Haley smiled, gesturing to his seat. He walked over and sat down, draping his napkin in his lap. Jamie swallowed as he walked over, taking the seat beside Keith. Nathan sat at one end of the table, Haley at the other, and Jamie barely tasted the food, barely able to see through the haze of tears in his eyes. It was something he'd dreamed of, something he always wanted, more than anything. Something so simple, something so many people take for granted, some little, insignificant thing, but something he'd longed for ever since he lost the two people that mattered the most to him.

A family dinner.

* * *

 

Quinn sat beside Jamie's bed, keeping his hand in hers. Logan and Clay stood in a corner of the room, speaking quietly. Riley sat in the chair beside Quinn, head on her mother's shoulder, while Quinn gently stroked her hair. Clay glanced at the bed, then turned back to his son. Logan shook his head.

"Dad, this … This was an accident. It had to be. Jude was just pissed off. He didn't set out to do this."  
"I know, son. I know."  
"Doesn't Mom know it, too?"

Clay let out a sigh as he glanced over his shoulder at his wife.

"Deep down, yes. I think she does. She's just upset right now and hurting."  
"Dad, she wants to press charges. And if, God forbid, Jamie doesn't wake up, Jude will go to jail."

Clay nodded, pushing a hand over his face.

"I know. That's why I'm trying to talk her out of it, but she won't listen."

Logan sighed, rubbing a hand against his chin, absently thinking he needed to shave. He shook his head. He went to open his mouth, and a knock sounded at the door. Everyone but Quinn turned around, as Officer Skills Taylor stepped into the room, holding his hat in his hands. Clay shut his eyes, turning to put a hand against the wall. Logan shook his head.

"No. No, Mom."

Quinn looked up at him, flicking her eyes over to Clay, then shook her head, putting her focus back on Jamie. Clay turned forward, giving Quinn a pointed look before he walked out of the room. Skills stepped aside to let him go, and Logan motioned for Skills to follow Clay before he walked behind them, pulling the door shut behind him. Logan jogged into the conference room, pulling the door shut behind him. Clay turned to Skills, who held his hands up.

"Before you start… Quinn called. Someone had to come, and I made damn sure it was me."

Clay rubbed a hand over his eyes as he let out a sigh. Skills echoed him before speaking again.

"I get it. This was an accident. But Clay … She's serious about this."  
"I know. Damn it."

He laced his hands together behind his head as he walked around, and Logan shook his head.

"What happens now?"

Skills sighed.

"Now? Now we need J. Luke to wake up and make this nightmare go away."

* * *

 

Jamie helped Lydia wash the dishes, putting the plates away without even wondering where everything should go. She walked up to her room, leaving Jamie alone. He walked through the living room, just standing in the middle of it before walking over and looking at the pictures on the wall. He saw himself graduating from high school, college, but noticed that any pictures of him doing any kind of sport were missing. He saw Lydia as a little girl, teeth missing in a wide smile, arms around a curly-haired blonde that Jamie knew was Sawyer. This picture he knew, because he'd taken it years ago. He smiled at the picture of Brooke and Lucas and their blended family, one twin missing from the picture and a forced half-smile on Sawyer's face. He continued into the dining room, to the shelves that were now filled with different items, mementos of a life Jamie didn't know. He gingerly dragged his fingers across the top of Haley's piano, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He had to get her to sing.

He felt closed-in all of a sudden, and turned to go outside, pushing through the back doors and stopping short at the edge of the pool.

"Fuck."

He squeezed his eyes shut, walking away, over to the grass, and let out a harsh breath. He took in a breath, eyes opening, glancing up. He walked back inside, hurrying—quietly—up the stairs, opening Lydia's bedroom door and stepping inside, pulling it shut behind him.

"Lyd?"

He walked through her room, shaking his head at the soft blue walls, heart aching at the loss of the Pepto-Bismol pink he'd always known. He stepped out onto the balcony, glancing to his side, just in time to see Lydia blow out a stream of smoke.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Lydia looked up at him from her spot on a chaise lounge, pulling the joint from her lips and holding it out to him.

"Want some?"  
"What? No!"

She let out a laugh, taking another hit, holding it in before lazily blowing it out again.

"I didn't think so."

Jamie shook his head, blinking at the bottles around Lydia's feet.

"Are you—are you drunk?"

She looked over to him, blinking her pretty, albeit bloodshot, navy blue eyes.

"It's Tuesday, James."  
"So?"  
"So … This is what we do on Tuesdays. I have a bang-up time out here, while you sit inside and pretend everything is fine. You and Nate and Haley do a great job of that."

Jamie shook his head again, blinking hard.

"Lydia, what is wrong with you?"

She sat up a little straighter, shaking her head.

"Nothing."  
"Nothing? It doesn't seem like nothing from where I'm standing."  
"Then maybe you should come sit by me."

She smiled at him, giving him a wink, stretching out on the chaise lounge. Jamie walked over, sitting on the edge of the other one, directly on her left. She put out the joint, blowing out one last long stream of smoke.

"Since you seem to have misplaced your memories, I'll enlighten you. Ever since Mom had that little episode with Cassie, we just kind of turn a blind eye to each other."  
"What little episode?"

Lydia held up her hands for the finger quotes.

"Postpartum depression."

She let her hands drop back to her lap.

"Or so they say. She wouldn't have anything to do with Cassie. She'd cry and cry, and Mom would just sit there. Someone had to step up and act like a mother, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be her. In a house full of guys, I didn't have a choice but to step up."  
"Jesus, Lyd. You were, what… Twelve?"

She nodded, reaching off to her right, pulling a beer out of an ice chest Jamie hadn't seen. She handed it to him, and he took it, his heart growing heavy in his chest. She pulled out one for herself, topping the top off with an expert flick of her wrist. Jamie twisted his own top off, closing his eyes when Lydia clinked her bottle with his. She took a long drink, then let out a sigh.

"We had one pretty epic blowup, before Dad decided she needed help that 'we just couldn't give her.' His words, not mine. So he took her somewhere, and I cared for their newborn, and then Mom came back like everything was fine. But Cassie wouldn't have anything to do with her."

A smile crossed Lydia's face then.

"She only wanted me. Still does, if you want the truth. If she's sad or sick or something, it's me she comes to."

She took another drink, then sat up straighter.

"You want to know something that Mom doesn't know?"

Jamie nodded, and a smile crossed Lydia's face.

"I know all the juicy details about Sawyer. I tell Mom a little bit, because she's just like everyone else in this craphole town. Real damn nosy."

Jamie blinked, and Lydia went on.

"So, around nine months ago, Sawyer went to this party. I went with her, and Davis and Jude. Jude had come here for the summer, and he hadn't been here … Since Lucas and Brooke got married, I guess."

Lydia looked over to Jamie, smiling.

"He's so fine. I know he and Davis are twins or whatever, but Jude's got this … I don't know. California air about him, I guess. Anyway, we stayed at this party for a long time, and Sawyer finally came and found me and said she'd found Jude in a bedroom, and he was passed out. We got him out, and came home. Well, like two months later, Sawyer came and got me. Said she'd actually roofied Jude at the party."  
"What?"

Lydia nodded as she took another drink.

"And she took him upstairs and … You know."

Jamie's mouth fell open, and she nodded again.

"And guess what. She was pregnant. Apparently, it was all part of this big, elaborate plan she had."  
"Sawyer?"

Lydia nodded.

"She's a vindictive little bitch, Jamie."

Jamie sat with his mouth open, and Lydia giggled.

"Anyway, Brooke and Lucas flip their shit when they find out. And when Sawyer tells them that Jude's her baby daddy… Well. Jude insists on moving back, because he's a good guy, and Sawyer lets Brooke get her hopes up about having a new little baby to spoil and stuff. Then she drops the bombshell that she's not keeping it. Not only is she not keeping it, she's giving it to Rachel, who Brooke hates, and who is married to Grandpa Dan, who Uncle Luke despises. They fought her on it for months, but it's Sawyer's kid, you know? And Jude knows better than to try to lay any claim to the kid."

She shook her head, and Jamie breathed out.

"I can't believe Sawyer would do something like that."  
"Well, she hates Lucas for getting with Brooke. I mean, they waited like three years after Peyton died. It wasn't like Luke jumped in Brooke's bed as soon as Peyton was cold."  
"Jesus, Lyd."

Jamie set his beer aside, standing up.

"You going to drink that?"

Jamie glanced at the beer, shaking his head. Lydia leaned over and took hold of it, turning it up as she relaxed back again.

"Anyway, back to Sawyer. Apparently, she planned all this. Getting knocked up by Jude and everything."  
"Why?"

Lydia smiled.

"The scandal."

Jamie shook his head, and Lydia took another sip.

"Lucas is married to Brooke. His daughter is now pregnant by her son."  
"Holy shit."  
"Exactly. But Brooke blew her top about letting that news get out. Sawyer finally just gave in, so only a few chosen people know that it's Jude's baby."

Jamie shook his head, and Lydia let out a laugh. He turned to look at her.

"What?"  
"Your face. You're just so heartbroken. What, did you think everything here was sunshine and roses?"

She lifted the beer to him.

"Guess again, Jimmy-Jam."

She finished off that beer, then rolled it over with her other empties. She glanced at her watch and smiled.

"Hey, James? I'm uh… expecting company any minute now. You mind locking the door when you go through?"  
"Company? Who?"  
"Jude."

Jamie narrowed his eyes.

"What? Why would he be coming over this late?"

Lydia laid a hand over her face as she laughed silently.

"James, why would a boy be coming over to your sister's bedroom at eleven-o-clock at night? Use your imagination."  
"Lydia!"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"What?"  
"He's having a baby with Sawyer!"  
"So? They're not together. It's not like he's cheating on her with me. We're just two friends who like to fuck. That's all."  
"Good God, don't say that. Christ."

Lydia rolled her eyes.

"Jeez. Sorry you forgot your sister wasn't such an angel after all."

Jamie shook his head, walking back into Lydia's room just as Jude hopped over the edge of her balcony. Jamie held his hands on her door as he listed to them talk.

"Hey, you."  
"Hey."  
"Did you have all the fun without me?"  
"No, baby. I saved something special just for you."

He saw Jude nearly sitting in Lydia's lap, then watched Lydia lean around the chair, coming back up with something Jamie couldn't make out in the darkness in her hands. Jude tossed his head back and let out a quiet laugh, letting his hands come up on either side of her.

"Oh, hell yes."

He bent to lock his lips to hers, and Jamie pulled the doors shut. He walked out of the room, pulling the door shut. He hung his head and sighed, pushing the door open again and turning the lock before shutting it again and walking down the stairs. He pushed a hand through his hair, coming to a stop in the kitchen when he saw his parents at the table. Haley smiled at him, tapping the table in front of the empty chair in front of her.

"Hey, honey. Come sit."

* * *

 

Brooke stepped into the room, completely silent except for the steady beep of the machines. As long as the beeps sounded, as long as they were steady, it meant there was still a chance. Jamie was still there, still with them, and he could open his eyes any minute now. Brooke wanted to believe that. Desperately, she wanted.

She sat in the chair beside the bed, glancing over and seeing Quinn's sleeping form on the cot near the window. Riley was curled up under her arm, and Brooke let out a sigh. She pushed her hands through her hair before she leaned up, taking one of Jamie's hands in both of hers.

"Hey, Jamie. It's me. Can you hear me?"

* * *

 

Jamie shook his head, blinking his eyes as he stepped over to the table. Haley gave him a warm smile, and Nathan handed him a cup of coffee as he sat down. Nathan laid his arm across the back of Haley's chair, and she just smiled at Jamie. After a few quiet moments, Haley reached across the table, gently patting Jamie's hand.

"Honey, we know."  
"Know what?"

Haley exchanged a glance with her husband, and Nathan gave a soft smile.

"This isn't real, son."

* * *

 

Brooke pushed her hand through her hair, bringing Jamie's hand up to her lips, gently kissing it, looking at his hand as she spoke softly.

"Jamie, I don't ask much of you. I love you so much, and I am so proud of you. You make it so easy to love you. You always have. But buddy … I need you to do something for me now."

* * *

 

Jamie shook his head, and Haley gave his hand a squeeze.

"I—I don't … I don't know what you're talking about."

Haley smiled again, that soft, closed-mouth, demure smile she had.

"Yes, you do. You said it yourself earlier."  
"Mom—"  
"This isn't right, Jamie. This isn't your life."

He shook his head, blinking rapidly. Haley glanced at Nathan, who sighed as Jamie spoke.

"No, this … This is—"  
"A dream, son. And it's time for you to wake up."

* * *

 

Brooke reached over, running her hand through the dark hair on Jamie's head. Nathan's hair, now present on his only son.

"Wake up for me, Jamie. Come back to us. We need you here."

* * *

 

"No. No, this is … No."

Haley began gently rubbing his arm, soothing him just a bit. Jamie lifted tear-filled eyes to hers.

"I don't want to go."

She smiled at him.

"I know."  
"I don't want to go back where you guys aren't."

Haley and Nathan exchanged a look, and Nathan reached a hand out to touch Jamie's arm alongside his wife.

"This isn't your life, Jamie. You aren't supposed to be here. You're supposed to be there."  
"With your family."

Jamie let out a laugh as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"You are my family. You two."  
"And Lydia."

Jamie went still, bringing his eyes to Haley's. She had tears in her dark eyes.

"She needs you, Jamie. She needs you to go back."

* * *

 

Brooke brushed her hand over her eyes, sitting up again.

"You've been asleep for five days, Jamie. You have to wake up for me. We need you here."

She let her shaking hand move back to his hair again.

"Clay and Quinn need you. Riley needs you. Logan needs you. I need you. But more than anyone else, Jamie Scott, Lydia needs you. She needs her brother, so you need to open your eyes and come back to us."

* * *

 

Jamie shook his head.

"What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to just go back? I don't want to. You're here. You're alive here, and that—"  
"Isn't real, honey."

Jamie sucked in a breath, fighting back a sob. Haley stood up, walking around the table to take Jamie in her arms. He put his head on her shoulder, letting out a broken breath as she gently rubbed his back.

"I'm so sorry for the life you've had to live. What you've gone through."  
"Mom, I need you. I need you both, and—"  
"And that's never going to stop. I'm so sorry about that."

Haley pulled back, just enough to look her son in the eye.

"But you have someone who feels exactly the same way."

Jamie closed his eyes.

"Lydia."

Haley nodded.

"She needs you, James. If nothing else, you need to go back for her."

* * *

 

"I know that things are bad right now."

Brooke continued to gently stroke Jamie's hair as she whispered to him.

"But they're going to get better. They've already started to get better. Lydia is better now, Jamie. And we need you to wake up so we can tell you. So she can tell you."

Brooke glanced over at the monitors, at the unchanging, steady beep.

"Come on, buddy. Please."

* * *

 

Jamie held Haley for the longest time, breathing her in, savoring the feeling of having his mother close to him again. She stepped out of his arms, cupping his face in her hands and giving him that smile before she stepped away. Nathan stepped up, wrapping his arms around Jamie, holding his son as he sobbed. When the worst of the tears had subsided, Nathan cleared his throat.

"You're a good man, Jamie Scott. And I am so proud of you."  
"Dad."  
"Don't you ever give up, okay, son? We're right there with you."

Jamie nodded, holding tight to Nathan one last time. Nathan stepped back, walking over and putting his arms around his wife, who leaned into him. They gave Jamie warm smiles, smiles he remembered from so long ago, and he fought, through the tears steadily falling down his face, to give them a smile back.

* * *

 

Brooke sighed, kissing Jamie's hand once more.

"I'm here, Jamie. Open your eyes for me."

* * *

 

"How do I do it?"

Haley cleared her throat.

"Close your eyes."

Jamie shook his head.

"I don't want to."  
"I know, baby. But you have to."

Jamie stared at his parents, letting out a shaky breath.

* * *

 

Brooke glanced up, at the monitor that beeped out of order.

"Jamie?"

* * *

 

"I love you."

Haley snuggled closer to Nathan, who gave Jamie a nod and a smile.

"We love you too, son."

* * *

 

"Jamie."

Brooke looked from the monitor to the bed, back up to the monitor.

"Jamie, open your eyes."

* * *

 

Jamie stared at Haley, who gave him a nod.

"Go, honey. Close your eyes, then open them back there."

He shook his head, and Nathan gave him a nod.

"It's time, son. Go."

* * *

 

Brooke squeezed Jamie's hand.

"Come on, Jamie. Come on, honey. Open your eyes for me."

* * *

 

Jamie gave a nod as he gasped in a breath. He looked back to his parents, for what he knew would be the final time.

"I love you."

They smiled back at him, and Jamie closed his eyes, whispering three words.

"Always and forever."

And with Brooke holding tight to his hand, the monitors steadily beeping just a little bit faster, Jamie opened his eyes, and one single tear slipped down his cheek.


	14. When You're Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "When You're Gone" by Avril Lavigne

Jamie stroked Riley's hair as she lay curled up on the hospital bed next to him. His voice was raspy, hoarse from disuse and the tube they'd had to insert to help him breathe.

"Five days?"

Quinn nodded, and Jamie let out a sigh as his head fell back against the pillows. Quinn smiled as she gave his hand a squeeze, the smile widening when he squeezed back this time.

"You scared us, J-Man."

Jamie smiled.

"I'm sorry."

Riley leaned back, looking Jamie in the eye.

"Did you know you were hurt so bad?"

He shook his head.

"No, but I, uh … I had a dream. I mean, I guess it was a dream. It seemed real."  
"About what?"

Jamie looked to Quinn and smiled.

"My mom and dad."

Quinn's eyes went soft, and Jamie continued, speaking just a bit softer.

"They were alive, and I had a brother and another sister. It was …"

He took in a breath and let it out, shaking his head.

"But I knew it wasn't right. That it wasn't my life. I needed to be here, with you guys. And even when I wanted to stay so badly … They helped me come home."

Quinn's eyes sparkled with tears, and Jamie cleared his throat.

"I, uh… I also think I need to have a talk with my agent."

Clay perked up, raising an eyebrow. Jamie gave him a smile.

"I need to see about maybe putting in for a trade."

Clay gave a slow nod, trying to hide his smile.

"And where were you thinking of being traded to?"

Jamie smiled.

"The Charlotte Bobcats."

Riley and Quinn both gasped quietly, and Jamie let out a quiet laugh.

"I need to be home, or as close as I can get."

Quinn laid across the bed, making Jamie laugh as she hugged him. Riley squeezed him as tightly as she dared, and Clay and Logan smiled from their places by the door. Jamie stared at the two of them as he hugged the girls, and Clay nodded at him. They had things they needed to discuss.

* * *

 

Jude laid his head back on the pillows, eyes closed, trying to ignore the ache in his chest from where they finally took the tube out. Brooke had come into the room hours earlier, tears rolling down her face, letting them know that Jamie had woken up. Davis had let out a sigh of relief as he'd relaxed in the chair, and Owen had held Brooke for a long time before she walked over and sat on the edge of Jude's bed. He'd given her a smile, and thankfully, mercifully, the doctor had come in to remove the chest tube. Which, by the way, had hurt like hell.

Jude welcomed the pain.

He deserved it, after all. He deserved anything they wanted to think up and dish out. If Jamie wanted to beat his ass as soon as he could, Jude would lie back and let him. Jamie had very nearly died, and it was because of Jude. He deserved to be punished, made to pay for what he'd done. All his talk about how much he loved Lydia, and the first chance he'd gotten, he almost kills her brother.

He didn't deserve the comfort of this hospital bed. He deserved a jail cell, and from all accounts and purposes, Quinn was determined to put him there.

And all Jude could think was _Good_.

* * *

 

When Quinn and Riley had gone home to get Jamie a change of clothes and a book to read, Clay and Logan made themselves comfortable. Clay sat in the chair beside the bed, feet propped up near Jamie's. Logan stood at the window, glancing out of it. After about three minutes of silence, Jamie spoke up.

"Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?"

Clay and Logan exchanged a glance, and Logan went back to staring out the window. Clay rolled his eyes, but sat up, picking his feet off of Jamie's bed.

"What do you remember?"  
"About what?"  
"Getting here."

Jamie thought for a moment, eyes narrowing. He shook his head.

"I don't … I don't remember anything."  
"What's the last thing you do remember?"

Jamie glanced over at the sound of Logan's deep voice, then back to Clay.

"I … I really don't know."

Jamie shook his head.

"My head hurts."

Clay nodded slowly.

"Yeah, the doc said your memory might be jacked for a while."

Jamie nodded, gently rubbing a hand across his forehead. Clay took in a breath, glancing up at Logan, who turned to lean against the wall, crossing his muscled arms over his massive chest. Clay shook his head with a smile, then looked up at Jamie.

"You went to the Rivercourt."

Jamie nodded slowly.

"Seems plausible."

Logan snorted, and Clay went on.

"Jude drove up, I guess to meet you, maybe? But … He, uh—"  
"He was upset."

Jamie glanced over at Logan.

"Upset?"

Logan nodded, and Clay sighed.

"We got the footage from the security cameras. You two fought, and fought hard."

Jamie nodded slowly.

"Over Lydia? It had to be over Lydia."

Clay shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know. If I had to guess, I'd have to agree with you."

Jamie nodded again, letting out a sigh as he shook his head.

"I don't remember any of that. I mean, it makes sense. But I don't …"

He shook his head again, and Clay let nodded.

"It's okay."

Jamie nodded, then looked up at Clay.

"How is Jude? Is he all right?"

Logan closed his eyes as he turned back to look out the window. Clay smiled.

"Jude's okay. He woke up a couple days ago. He had a collapsed lung, and they had to put a tube in his chest, but they took it out this morning. He should be going home soon."

Jamie nodded.

"Good. That's good."

He let out a quiet laugh as he shook his head.

"Lydia would kill me if anything happened to him."

Clay and Logan exchanged a glance, and Jamie let out a sigh when he saw it.

"What?"

The Evans men looked to him, and Jamie sighed again.

"That look. What did that look mean?"

Logan cleared his throat as he stepped over to the bed.

"Jamie, Jude threw the first punch. When you cracked your head on the concrete, the doctors didn't know if you'd ever wake up again. You had some kind of bleed on your brain, but they said it would fix itself. Or something like that, I don't know."

Clay smiled, soft and sad, as Logan continued.

"You're in here because of Jude."

Jamie's eyebrows drew together.

"Wait a minute. What exactly are you telling me?"

Clay and Logan both took in a breath, and Logan spoke again.

"Mom wants to press charges against Jude."  
"What?!"

Clay nodded.

"James, it was a big deal. I mean, you were really bad off, and I don't think you understand just how bad we're talking."  
"Clay, he's _seventeen._ "  
"I know."  
"It's not like he went out there to kill me. He was upset. I was upset. All of this was just an accident."

Clay nodded.

"I know. I know it, I just …"  
"Get Quinn in here. I'll tell her. She can't press charges against him. He's just a kid. Just a messed-up kid in a fucked up situation."

Logan sighed, and Jamie let out a laugh. He pushed the covers back from the bed.

"Fine. If you two are just going to stand there with your thumbs up your asses, I'll go find her myself."  
"Jamie, sit—whoa."

Clay and Logan caught Jamie at the same time, helping him back onto the bed while Jamie held a hand to his head. Clay sighed, fixing the covers back.

"Just woke up from a five-day coma, yet he's ready to take on the world."

Jamie let out a groan, resting back against the pillows. Logan shook his head.

"I'll go see if Mom's back. For the love of God, Jamie, stay in bed."

Jamie gave Logan a thumbs up as he left the room. Clay gave a sigh as he settled back into the chair by Jamie's bed. Jamie opened one eye, and seeing Clay seemed to be making himself comfortable, closed it again. Clay spoke quietly.

"Skills was up here. Quinn called him."

Jamie let out a sigh.

"She can't be serious about this."  
"You don't understand. The doctors were telling us there was no hope. The longer you went without waking up, the lower your chances of ever waking up were."  
"I'm a Scott. We're resilient."  
"Yeah, we thought that about Nathan and Haley, too."

Jamie turned his head, and Clay ran his hands over his face.

"I'm sorry."  
"No, it … It's true. I'm sorry that you guys had to go through that."

Jamie lifted his head, looking straight at Clay.

"But you can't blame Jude. Yeah, he threw a punch, but so did I!"  
"The footage shows him clearly throwing the first punch."  
"Okay, fine. But—"  
"No, there's no 'but.' He threw the first punch, you were in a coma and not expected to wake back up. That right there is enough to put him away for a long time."

Jamie sighed, pushing a hand through his hair, wincing when he raked his fingers over sensitive skin. He shook his head again.

"He's a kid, Clay."  
"I know."  
"He's been through an impossible situation."  
"I know."  
"And you were, what, going to let her put him in jail?"

Clay closed his eyes, pushing his hands through his hair.

"I wish the two of you would stop looking at things as either black or white. It's not that easy, James."

Jamie nodded.

"I know."

There was a knock at the door, and Quinn walked in, handing a cup of coffee to Clay and walking over to the bed, pressing a kiss to Jamie's forehead before she handed him a cup.

"It's coffee, but it's diluted. A lot."

Jamie snorted, taking a sip.

"It'll do. Thanks, Aunt Q."

She smiled at him, tapping his legs to make him scoot over enough for her to sit on the edge of the bed. Jamie took a longer drink, then held the cup in his hands.

"We need to talk."

Quinn raised her eyebrows, but nodded.

"What about?"

Jamie sighed, never taking his eyes from her.

"Jude."

He watched Quinn's clear blue eyes change to a stormy grey. She shook her head.

"We don't have anything to discuss—"  
"Oh, the hell we don't."

Quinn and Jamie blinked at Clay, who set his cup aside and stood up. He walked to the sink at the wall, then turned back, holding a hand out to Quinn.

"You were ready to throw the kid in prison the second the doctor cleared him."  
"Jamie almost died. I can't believe you're fighting me on this."

Quinn shook her head, standing to her feet. Clay let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head.

"He's a kid, Quinn."  
"That doesn't matter!"  
"Yes, it does."

They both stopped, turning to Jamie after he spoke softly. He lifted his head, meeting Quinn's eyes. She shook her head.

"He could have killed you, Jamie."  
"But he didn't."  
"So, what? We're just going to pat him on the back and send him on his way? What, 'do better next time'? You've got to be kidding me!"

Jamie shook his head.

"It was an accident, Aunt Quinn. He didn't go out there determined to kill me."  
"But he nearly did."  
"He didn't mean to! He was mad! So was I!"  
"So you remember?"

Jamie let out a sigh, rubbing a hand on his forehead.

"No. But Clay said I fought back, so I imagine I was."  
"Or you were trying to defend yourself."  
"Quinn!"

She looked to Clay, a disbelieved smile on her face as she shook her head.

"Can you stop taking up for him for one second and look at your family? Jamie's here because of Jude. Does that ever cross your mind?"

Clay smiled as he nodded his head. The smile slid from his face as he took a step closer to Quinn, holding a hand up before letting it fall.

"Lydia is alive because of Jude. Does _that_ ever cross _your_ mind?"

Clay turned and walked out, slamming the door shut behind him. Jamie stared down at the blanket on his bed, and Quinn closed her eyes, bringing her hands up to cover her mouth. Jamie spoke quietly.

"I know you were scared, and I'm sorry. But he doesn't deserve to be punished like that. If I hadn't woken up, it would be different. But it's not. And we're not going to press charges against him."

Quinn nodded, walking out the door before Jamie could see the tears on her face.

* * *

 

Jude sat in the chair in his room, staring out the window. The sky was steadily darkening, and it was barely afternoon. Jude heard the crackle of thunder and settled in the chair, pulling the blanket closer to him. He blinked when he saw a flash of lightning, and a smile crossed his face. The rain seemed to start suddenly, just a dark sky one second, pouring sheets of rain the next. Jude just watched the rain, absently hearing the door open. He heard the squeak of wet shoes, and glanced around the chair to see his brother standing there, completely soaked. Jude snorted, a smile crossing his face, and Davis nodded.

"Well, at least it got you to smile."

Jude looked back out the window, and Davis sighed, squeaking over to a drawer and pulling out a towel.

"I was almost to the door and the bottom fell out."

Jude nodded, but Davis never saw him. He continued to talk, and Jude never made a sound. When he was semi-dry, Davis let out a sigh.

"Hey."

Jude glanced around the chair again, and Davis held out his arms.

"Will you just talk to me?"

Jude let out a sigh as he relaxed back into his chair.

"I don't have anything to say."

Davis pursed his lips as he nodded.

"Nothing? Nothing at all? Maybe you could think of something."  
"Like what?"  
"Oh, I don't know, maybe 'I don't want to go to jail'? Or maybe 'I didn't go to the damn basketball court to try to kill him'? Perhaps even 'It was an accident.' Any or all of the above would suffice."

Jude closed his eyes, then turned back in his chair. Davis let out a laugh.

"Christ, Jude. It's almost like you want to go to jail."

Jude didn't move, and Davis looked over at the chair.

"Oh my god. You want to go to jail?"  
"I could have killed him, Davis."

Davis pushed his hands through his hair before covering his mouth.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Jude sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Davis walked around the chair, to where he was standing in front of Jude.

"Talk to me."  
"I don't want to talk. Can you not take a hint?"  
"Have you met me? Obviously not."

Jude sighed again, and Davis shook his head. After a second, Jude turned to face him, tears in his dark eyes. Davis stood up straighter, and Jude shook his head.

"I'm really fucked up right now, Davis."  
"Jude."  
"I just … I don't know."

He looked down at the blanket on his lap, shaking his head. Davis pushed a hand through his hair, and a knock sounded at the door. The nurse stepped inside, flashing Davis a smile.

"I've got your meds, Jude. Want to get back in the bed?"

Jude wiped his eyes and nodded. Davis helped him to stand, wincing when his brother did as Jude climbed back into the bed. The nurse helped to fix his covers around him, watched him as he swallowed the pills, then patted his hand and left the room. Davis pulled the chair up beside Jude's bed and looked up at him.

"Can we talk?"

Jude shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know for how long. This medicine knocks me out."

Davis let out a sigh, but nodded.

"Well, you just rest. And we can talk when you wake up."

Jude nodded, eyes already drooping. Davis let out a quiet laugh as he shook his head.

"You never could hold your meds."

Jude didn't answer him, just let out a breath as he drifted to sleep.

* * *

 

Jude blinked his eyes open, and Brooke smiled at him.

"Hey, sleepyhead."

Jude groaned, shaking his head.

"How can I sleep and wake up tired?"

Brooke smiled.

"It's the medicine, honey."

Jude nodded, yawning widely. Brooke let out a sigh, and Jude blinked at her.

"What is it?"

Brooke gave him a smile.

"Jamie wants to talk to you."

Panic filled Jude's eyes, and Brooke shook her head.

"No, no, no. Calm down. It's okay. It's okay."  
"Mom—"  
"He just wants to talk, honey. Just talk."

A knock sounded at the door, and Brooke gently patted Jude's shoulder. Logan pushed Jamie into the room in a wheelchair, and he and Brooke walked out, leaving Jamie and Jude alone.

"Jamie, I—"

Jamie held up a hand, letting out a breath.

"I'm going to be completely honest with you, and I want you to do the same for me, okay?"

Jude nodded, and Jamie sighed.

"I don't remember a damn thing."  
"Not—nothing?"

Jamie shook his head.

"That entire day is fuzzy."

Jude nodded slowly. Jamie glanced up at him.

"Do you remember anything?"

Jude met his eyes, then looked to the blanket as he nodded. Jamie leaned forward in the chair.

"What do you remember?"

Jude closed his eyes. Jamie watched him, and eventually, Jude shook his head.

"Jamie…"  
"Come on, Jude. No bullshit, okay?"

Jude leaned back against the pillow, then sighed.

"I remember it all. I remember driving to the Rivercourt and seeing you in the bleachers and just … It's like my vision was tinted red. I wanted to hurt you, for the way you treated Lydia. She was sick, and you just screamed at her, and it wasn't fair. So when you walked down the steps, I just … I started whaling on you."

He shook his head, and Jamie sat back in the wheelchair. Jude spoke again, quieter than he had before.

"I wanted to hurt you. I guess I justified it by saying it was because of the way you treated Lydia, but in all actuality, I just wanted to make someone hurt as bad as I was. As I am."

Jude lifted a hand, pressing his fingertips into his eyes, embarrassed from the sudden appearance of tears. He heard the sigh, and sniffled before he opened his eyes to look at Jamie again. Jamie shook his head.

"I don't remember it. Any of it. But I believe you, okay? And I … I don't blame you."

Jude closed his eyes again, and Jamie let out another sigh.

"If I was in your shoes, I probably would have done the same thing."

Jude shook his head, and Jamie wheeled himself closer to the bed, reaching a hand up and laying it on Jude's hand.

"I'm not going to let them press charges. That's bullshit anyway. But Jude … You've got to get some help."  
"I—"

Jude started to speak, but backed off when he saw the look on Jamie's face. Jude lifted a hand to lay over his eyes again.

"You're not okay, Jude. And my sister needs you to be, so … You know. Fix it."

Jamie patted his hand, then sat back in his chair, wheeling himself to the door. He knocked on it, and Logan opened the door, wheeling Jamie back to his room. Brooke walked into the room and shut the door behind her.

"Honey? You feeling bett—Honey? Jude?"

Brooke stepped over as Jude moved one of the pillows from behind him, setting it in his lap before lifting it to his face. He screamed into the pillow, and Brooke sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Jude. Honey, honey. Hey."

She reached over and laid a hand on Jude's back, and he shook as he lifted his head up.

"Mom, I can't do this. I just—I can't."  
"Can't what, baby?"

Jude shook his head, leaning back in the bed as tears filled his eyes and started to slide down his cheeks. Brooke held his hand, and he gripped her hand tightly. He took in a breath, and it came out as a sob. Brooke scooted closer on the bed, and Jude sat up until he was wrapped in his mother's arms, crying on her shoulder.

"Nothing's right, Mom. Everything's messed up, and I don't … I don't know how to make it okay."

He took in a shaking breath, letting it out in broken sobs. Brooke took in a deep breath, gently rubbing his back.

"What can I do to help you?"

Jude squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head.

"I don't know."

Brooke nodded, still rubbing Jude's back. After a minute, she spoke quietly.

"I think it might be good for you to get away from here for a while."  
"Mom, what—"  
"Honey, she's not coming home anytime soon."

Jude leaned back, and Brooke sighed as she reached a hand up, pushing her dark hair behind her ear.

"I know she's doing better, but she's nowhere near ready to come back home."

Jude looked down at the bed, and Brooke had to look away. The devastated look on his face was just too much for her to handle. She took a breath to steady herself, pushing a smile on her face before she turned back to face him. She reached over and gently took his hand again.

"You could go back with Davis. Spend the rest of the summer with your dad, then come back before school starts."

Jude nodded slowly.

"What about Meg?"

Brooke smiled.

"Oh, she'll be fine. We'll do insanely girly things that we can't do with two smelly big brothers around."

Jude smiled at that, and Brooke let out a sigh.

"There's that smile I love so much."

Jude lifted dark eyes to look at her, and Brooke smiled again, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek.

"I don't know how, and I don't know when, but I promise you, my sweet little boy, things will get better."

Jude nodded, swallowing before he let out a shaking sigh. Brooke patted his leg, standing up and smoothing out her shirt.

"I'm going to go call your dad, and talk to the doctor. Try to rest for me?"

Jude smiled softly and nodded. Brooke leaned over and kissed his forehead, then left the room. The smile slid from his face as soon as she turned around, and he curled up on his side, hugging a pillow to his chest and forcing his eyes shut, trying his hardest to block everything out.


	15. Shake It Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Shake It Out" by Florence + The Machine

August was hot.

That was all Sawyer could think as she sat on the lounge chair in her backyard, watching the steam rise up from the road she could almost see, if she squinted. She closed her eyes behind her big sunglasses, turning her head to the side, basking in the warmth from the sun. She'd had a headache since she woke up that morning, and nothing had helped. Laying in the sun, doing nothing… That, however, was helping.

She heard a whistle, and a smile crossed her face before she sat up, pushing the sunglasses into her curly hair atop her head. Logan leaned against the fence, in a ratty Tree Hill High t-shirt and Cleveland Browns shorts.

"Can I help you with something?"

Logan smiled, moving his sunglasses down his nose to give her a wink before pushing them back up.

"Oh, I don't know. I was just sitting here with these two tickets to that new Julian Baker movie. You know, the one that's already getting Oscar buzz?"  
"Ooh, really?! I thought it was sold out!"

Logan shrugged his muscled shoulders.

"Well, you know. Tickets sometimes magically appear when people like Jerry Jones would like you to play for his Cowboys."

Sawyer shook her head with a smile.

"That's awesome."

Logan shrugged his shoulder.

"So anyway, I got these tickets and I thought I'd take along my best girl, you know?"

Sawyer grinned.

"And when she was busy, I figured I'd ask you."

Sawyer let out a laugh, getting up from the chair and running to the fence, slapping Logan's arm as he laughed.

"I'm kidding! I'm kidding!"

Sawyer crossed her arms over her chest and Logan leaned over, picking her chin up and making her look at him.

"You know you're my best girl, Sawyer Scott."  
"I know you need to get out of the '50s. No one calls anyone their 'best girl' anymore."  
"I'll show you what you can do with those finger quotes. Come here!"

Logan reached over the fence as Sawyer backed away, giggling. They stood there, smiling at each other, until Logan nodded towards his truck.

"Movie starts at 7:30. I figured we could either go grab some food beforehand, or swing by Taco Bell on the way home. With the Taco Bell option—"  
"We can pig out on popcorn and M&Ms at the movie!"

Logan nodded, and Sawyer clasped her hands together.

"You got yourself a date, Mr. Evans. But whatever shall I wear?"

Logan rolled his eyes, fixing his shades as he walked back towards his truck.

"I'll be back a little before 7:00. That means be ready—"  
"A little before 7:00. Jeez, I get it."

He shook his head with a laugh as he climbed inside. Sawyer waved to him, then gathered her chair, magazine, and tanning oil, then walked inside. Lucas lifted his head from the kitchen table, and Sawyer ignored him as she walked down the hall.

"Sawyer? Hey, Saw—"

She slammed her door, and Lucas sighed before he walked back down the hall. After a few minutes, she walked out of her room and went to the bathroom she shared with Ellie. She pulled her makeup bag out, reaching over and grabbing her straightener, tapping it against her palm. She walked down the hall, to her mother's bedroom. She knocked on the door, then stuck her head inside.

"Mom? Hey, Mom, you here?"  
"No, she's gone to the store!"

Sawyer walked into the bathroom, poking her head in the door.

"Ellie?"  
"I wanted to take a shower in here, all right? Don't ask."

Sawyer laughed.

"All right. Oh, hey. You'll do. I'm going to the movies tonight with Logan."

Ellie stuck her head out of the shower curtain.

"Not Uncle Julian's new one."

Sawyer grinned, and Ellie groaned.

"No fair! It's been sold out for weeks!"   
"Logan gets special privileges because—"   
"Every NFL team wants a piece of him, yeah, yeah, I know."

Sawyer laughed again as Ellie ducked back into the shower.

"So I was wondering, my hair. Curled or straight?"

Ellie thought for a moment, then spoke over the sound of the water.

"Straight. You don't do it very often, and it would be perfect for a movie premiere."  
"The paparazzi's not going to be there, El."   
"Hey, a girl can dream. Use your imagination."

Sawyer shook her head, then nodded. Ellie let out a groan, and Sawyer narrowed her eyes.

"El?"   
"I'm fine. It's just … Ugh."   
"What's wrong?"

Ellie poked her head out of the shower again, and Sawyer got a look at the blush on her cheeks. Ellie sighed, then made a face.

"Could you do me a favor?"

Sawyer nodded, and Ellie ducked back into the shower.

"Can you get me a tampon?"

Sawyer smiled.

"Yeah, kid. I got ya."

Sawyer walked back to her bathroom, kneeling down and reaching beneath the sink for the box of tampons she tried to keep stocked. She made a sound when she found the box unopened, sitting back on her heels. She shook her head, tearing the box open and pulling out a tampon for her sister. She walked back into the bathroom and laid it on the back of the toilet.

"Hey, El?"  
"Yeah."

Sawyer swallowed, then looked in the mirror as she spoke.

"We're … uh … We're synced up, aren't we?"

Ellie snorted.

"Yeah, Saw. We almost kill each other for a week, then we're fine."   
"So the last time we …"  
"Last month, this day. You know, Saw. It's like clockwork. There may not be much you can count on, but the fact that we start on the same day is like … You could put money on it."

Sawyer rolled her eyes.

"You're so weird."  
"Well, I wish you good luck. I wouldn't wear white pants if I was you."

Sawyer closed the door as she walked away, signaling to Ellie that she was leaving. Just outside the bathroom door, she leaned against the wall as she bit her thumbnail.

* * *

 

Sawyer wrapped a towel around her, walking over to the mirror and rubbing through the steam. She lifted a brush to her hair, looking at herself.

"Stop it. You're fine."

She plugged the straightener and her blow dryer in, dropping the towel on the floor and grabbing her robe from the hook behind the door. She slid into it, rubbing moisturizer on her face before pumping some smoothing product on her hands, then through her hair. She did her best to ignore herself as she continued to get ready, looking in the mirror only when it was necessary. She straightened her hair, then walked into her bedroom, finding a sundress in her closet and pulling it on. She heard a whistle from her doorway, and turned back to see Ellie standing there, leaning against the doorframe.

"Good choice."

Sawyer snorted.

"Get over here and help me zip this, would you?"

Ellie walked over, tugging on the zipper.

"Suck in."

Sawyer did, and after some intense tugging from Ellie, the zipper was up.

"Jeez, kid. Maybe—"  
"Not a word from you."

Ellie let out a laugh, holding up both of her hands in surrender.

"You look gorgeous."

Sawyer rolled her eyes, walking to her mirror and picking up a tube of lip gloss. She dabbed it on her lips as Ellie glanced at the clock.

"Hmm, right on time."

Sawyer glanced back, hearing the knock at the door. Her eyes went wide as she looked back at her sister, and she and Ellie went running from the room at the same time. They came to a stop in the kitchen doorway, both taking in a breath as Lucas opened the door.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Sawyer's eyes drifted closed as Ellie patted her arm. Ellie walked over to the door, laying a hand on Lucas' shoulder.

"Dad, come on. Let's go to—"   
"No, I want to know what the hell he's doing here."

Ellie sighed as Logan stepped forward and discreetly took the bottle from Lucas' hand. Sawyer closed her eyes as Logan tried to shut the door behind him, before her mother stepped inside.

"Logan. Nice to see you—"

The smile slid from Peyton's face when she heard Lucas grunt as he shook Ellie's arm off. She took the bottle of vodka from Logan's hand, letting out a sigh. Sawyer came running down the hall, purse in hand, and she grabbed Logan's arm, whirling him around and dragging him out the door behind her. She didn't stop until she got to the truck, scrambling in the passenger's side. Logan jumped in the driver's seat, turning to face Sawyer, who just shook her head.

"Just drive."  
"Sawyer—"   
"For the love of God, Logan, just drive."

He did. He drove clear across the county line, finally pulling over when the sun was completely gone from the sky. He put the truck in park, turning in his seat to look at Sawyer. She had her head in her hands, her elbows on her knees that she just couldn't seem to keep still. Logan rubbed a hand over his chin, then let out a sigh.

"Say it."

Logan blinked, reaching over and turning down the air. Sawyer spoke again, keeping her head in her hands.

"I know you're dying to."  
"I—I'm not."

Sawyer glanced over at him, then pushed her hands through her hair. Logan leaned over the steering wheel, staring through the windshield, closing his eyes when she started talking quietly.

"He won't stop. The drinking, I mean. I thought he had. Maybe he slacked off for a while, but he picked it right back up. It got worse after Jamie and Jude's thing. He's back on the hard stuff now. Well, I mean, if you can call vodka hard. He gets mean when he drinks vodka, though. That's why I tried to get out of there so fast."

She lifted her head up, looking around at the darkness surrounding them and glancing at the clock on the dashboard. She let out a long sigh, pushing a hand through her hair again.

"Sorry we missed the movie."

Logan shook his head.

"It doesn't matter."  
"Yes, it does."  
"Fuck the movie, Saw."

She looked over and met his eyes, and tears filled hers. He unbuckled his seatbelt, then hers, and slid across the seat, taking her in his arms. She clutched his arm as she cried, putting her forehead on his shoulder.

"Sawyer—"   
"I'm in a horrible mess, Logan."

He sighed, gently running his fingers through her hair. She shook her head, moving closer to him, gripping his shirt.

"Hey, it's okay."

She shook her head.

"No, it's not."  
"Sawyer—"  
"I need you to do something for me."

She leaned back, looking up at him. Logan met her eyes, then nodded.

"Anything."

* * *

 

Logan sat in the truck and watched as Sawyer walked into the drugstore. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, sitting up straighter, starting the truck as she walked back out. She climbed into the truck, buckled her seatbelt, and stared at the bag she held in her hands. She reached in and pulled out a Kit-Kat, and Logan smiled when she handed it to him.

"Do you … Do you want to go home? Or we—we could go somewhere else."   
"Like where?"

Logan sighed, pushing a hand through his hair.

"I don't know. A motel or something?"

Sawyer closed her eyes, then nodded. Logan nodded as well, backing the truck out of the parking lot and driving to the first motel he saw. Sawyer sat in the truck while Logan went inside, and she didn't look up until Logan parked the truck in front of room 119.

"You want to tell me what we're doing here?"  
"Not yet."

Sawyer walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind her, leaving Logan alone in the room. He shut and locked the door, pushing his hands through his hair. He walked over and turned the air conditioner on, then unbuttoned the cuffs of his light blue shirt and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. Sawyer stepped out of the bathroom, and Logan turned to face her.

"Can you just give me a little hint as to what the hell is happening here?"

She walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge and putting her head in her hands. Logan stood still for a moment, then stepped to the bed. He stared at Sawyer for a moment, then turned and walked into the bathroom. A few minutes later he walked out, taking a seat beside Sawyer on the bed. He ran a hand over his face, and Sawyer lifted her head, letting out a long sigh.

"I saved one, to take in the morning."   
"But … As of now—"   
"Yes."

Sawyer let out a long breath.

"I'm pregnant."


	16. Demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Demons": by Imagine Dragons

Jude used to think his mother's pushing for normalcy was bad in Tree Hill.

Then he got to L.A.

His dad acted the way he usually did at first, like he wasn't quite sure what to do with Davis and Jude. After a day or two, they all fell into their old rapport. Alex, on the other hand … She was a different story. She literally tiptoed around the boys. Which was a feat in itself, considering how hugely pregnant she was. She had ideas, but she pushed Davis and Julian to present them to Jude.

Davis had friends here he tried to introduce Jude to, but Jude wasn't interested. It was hot during the day. Not as hot as Tree Hill, but hot. The nighttime was cooler. Not cold, but certainly better than back home. He'd been filling up that damn journal, but now he was running out of things to say.

And that was his thought process these days. Bouncing from one thought to another, all jumbled up.

Nothing made sense.

He didn't understand it, and he couldn't put it into words so others might could help him. She was getting better.

Why wasn't he?

* * *

 

Jude's hair grew lighter in the California sun. It was something that struck him as funny, because Davis' hair stayed that same dark shade. His own, though, was shot through with golden strands.

He wonders, all the time, if Lydia would like it.

He let out a sigh from his place on the balcony of his father and stepmother's mansion. It was ridiculous, way too big for the two of them. Even if all three of his children and the one they were currently expecting were there at the same time, the house was still entirely too big.

And his mother had sent him here to "get some space."

Boy, did she hit the nail on the head with this one. At least Alex wasn't trying to push organic, vegan food on him this time. Apparently, the baby she was carrying had developed an affinity for greasy fast food. The less healthy, the better. Davis was constantly thanking his lucky stars for that one.

Anyway, back to the house. Jude walked back inside, slowly walking through his room. He's visited a total of five times in the seven years since Julian left. Julian and Alex had moved three times, and they'd only lived in this house for two years. In those two years, this was the second time Jude had visited. And he still hasn't been in every room.

He stays in a room on the third floor, one he claimed for himself the last time he and Davis and Meg had visited, over last spring break. Davis was in a room just down the hall, and Meg had made her room right in between theirs. And she still somehow ended up with one of them every night. After Jude had woken up to Meg curled up on the floor beside his bed, he and Davis decided to have "slumber parties" for the rest of the nights they were there and "camp out" with Meg in a different bedroom each night. They'd only slept in four rooms, each of "theirs," and one more, on the floor above theirs.

Now, though, he found himself in the new baby's room. It was on the second floor, just down the hall from the master bedroom. The walls were painted a soft gray, which Jude thought should have made the room seem gloomy. Instead, it was peaceful. There were gauzy curtains at the open window, blowing in the breeze. Since they didn't know the sex of the baby, all of the furniture and little things in the room were gender-neutral. Except for the tiny pink stuffed hippo in the crib.

Julian had a feeling that the baby was a girl. Alex just knew it was a boy. Davis was leaning towards agreeing with Alex, and Jude really had no idea, and to be completely honest, he didn't really care. He knew that was terrible, since the baby would be his brother or sister, but bigger things were weighing on Jude's mind. He didn't even feel like his mind was his own anymore.

"Jude?"

He glanced behind him to see Alex standing at the door, one hand resting on her big belly. She gave him a soft smile as she leaned her head against the doorframe.

"What are you doing in here?"

Jude let out a shaky sigh, glancing around the room.

"I don't … I don't know."

Alex stood up straighter, nodding her head as she walked into the room. She walked to the rocking chair near the baby's bed, letting out a long breath as she sat down. She gently rocked back and forth, slowly rubbing one hand on her belly.

"It's nice in here. Peaceful."

Jude nodded, walking over to the window. Alex was still rocking, watching him, speaking softly.

"I come in here sometimes to think. It's a good thinking space."

Jude nodded again, looking out the window at the clear, perfectly blue sky.

"Yeah, it is."

His voice was rough, thick with the tears he kept trying to blink back. He let out a cough, closing his eyes when Alex's voice broke through the silence.

"What can I do to help you?"

Jude dropped his head, shaking it slowly, as the tears started to slip down his cheeks. He let out a gasping breath, gripping the windowsill. He turned quickly at the gentle touch of a hand on his shoulder, and found Alex standing before him, worry on her face. Jude sobbed again, found himself in Alex's arms. She murmured to him, rubbing his back, holding him while he cried.

* * *

 

"We're doing fine, Mom. I promise. … Would I lie to you? … Oh my god, that was ONE time. … I apologized a million times and you grounded me for like a year. … Okay, okay, I'm still sorry for it. … Mom, come—Yes, ma'am. … I love you, too. I'll tell him. … He'll probably call you in an hour. … Okay. Love you, too. Bye."

Davis sighed as he hung up his phone, shaking his head. He walked into the house, holding still once he shut the door behind him.

"Dad?"

No answer.

"Alex?"

Nothing.

"Jude?"

Still nothing.

"Don't tell me you guys left me in this giant-ass house alone."   
"Baby's room, dumbass."

Davis laughed as he jogged up the stairs. He walked into the baby's room, stopping in the doorway. Jude was on his hands and knees under the window.

"Are you … painting?"

Jude glanced over his shoulder, giving his brother a nod, and a glance at the streak of white across his cheek. Davis shook his head.

"Why the hell are you painting? Better yet, what are you painting? Dad and I painted this room a month ago."  
"I'm whitewashing the window and the baseboards."   
"Why?"   
"Because Alex thought it would be pretty."

Davis slowly nodded, groaning as he knelt down to sit near his brother. Jude snorted.

"I guess it would be too much to ask you to pick up a brush."   
"You would guess right."

Jude dipped the brush in the paint and swiped it along the baseboard as Davis watched. Davis opened his mouth, then shut it. He did that a couple of times, until he felt like a damn fish, and Jude finally spoke.

"I can't put it into words."  
"What?"

Jude sighed as he dipped the brush in the paint again.

"What I'm feeling."

Jude moved down the wall a bit, and Davis shifted to watch him. Jude sighed, going back to painting.

"She's doing good, you know? Or, she was last we heard. Major turnaround. And what do I do to celebrate and encourage her recovery? I almost kill her brother."  
"Jude."   
"I'm serious, Davis."

Jude sat back on his heels, looking over to his brother.

"She's getting better and I'm beating the shit out of her brother."

He shrugged his shoulders. Davis shook his head.

"There's no, like, right or wrong way to be here, Jude."  
"Are you shitting me? You're justifying what just happened?"   
"No. No, I am not. That was horrible."  
"Jamie almost died and it was my fault."  
"But he didn't."

Jude closed his eyes as he shook his head.

"That doesn't matter. Listen to me."  
"No, you listen to me!"

Davis pushed to his feet.

"Do you have any idea what it was like to get that phone call? To hear Mom say that your lung collapsed, so the doctors put a tube in your chest? I'm no doctor, Jude, but I'm fairly certain you've got to have working lungs to live. Then to have a fucking jet at my disposal because, and I quote, 'You need to come home?' I thought you were dying, and I was scared out of my goddamned mind."

Jude was quiet as Davis paced the room.

"Don't you sit there and crucify yourself when we're stuck in an impossible situation. Yeah, you fucked up, but join the club. The only thing I could do was leave. At least you stuck around."

Jude set his paintbrush on top of the paint can.

"At least you did what you knew you had to do."  
"Yeah, and at what cost?"

Davis let out a laugh as he shook his head.

"Sawyer wouldn't even look at me when we were at the hospital. She stayed glued to Logan's side. Logan, Jude. Of all the guys, she picks Logan."   
"Hey, come on."  
"Sorry. That's not—"

Davis let out a sigh.

"She was my girlfriend, you know? And more than that, she was, like, a really good friend. Not my best friend, because that's you, but a really good friend. And I just left her."

Jude let out a sigh, and Davis shook his head again.

"She needed me, and I couldn't stay. You needed me, and I—"   
"Come on. Don't blame yourself for me."

Davis pushed his hands through his hair.

"Can we just not blame anyone for anything here? I just … I don't … There's no protocol here. No guidebook or something that says—"  
"What? 'This is how you're supposed to act when the love of your life tries to kill herself'?"

Davis closed his eyes, and Jude stood up, letting out a sigh.

"I need to wash my hands. Is there—"  
"Down the hall, second door on the left."

Jude walked out of the room, leaving Davis alone. He walked over to the crib and looked inside, smiling when he saw the hippo. He reached in and picked it up, running his fingers over the pale pink, incredibly soft stuffed animal.

"Well, if it does turn out to be another little sister, I hope her life is far less complicated than her big brothers' currently are. Hell, I hope that for a little brother, too."

He glanced up, looking around at the baseboards and the window.

"Of course, with this family … God help the kid."

Davis laughed as he set the hippo back into the corner of the crib, hearing the front door open and close a few seconds before his father's voice echoed through the house.

"Boys! We're back."   
"And we have food!"

Davis closed his eyes, lifting his head as he thanked God again that Alex was over that health food craze. He walked out of the room, shutting the light off as he did, walking to the stairs and walking down two of them before he stopped.

"Jude?"

No answer. The bathroom door was open, but Davis couldn't hear any water running. He walked back up the steps, walking over to the bathroom. He knocked twice on the door.

"Jude?"

Still no answer. He stepped into the bathroom, looking over at the tub, at the towel draped over the side. He looked to the opposite side of the bathroom, over in the corner, and felt a chill run down his spine.

"Ju—Jude?"

Jude was sitting in the corner of the bathroom, head in his hands, rocking back and forth. He was pale, covered in sweat, muttering to himself. Davis stepped over to him, kneeling down.

"Jude? Hey."

Jude paid him no attention. He just kept rocking, kept talking to himself. Davis swallowed, leaning closer, listening to what Jude was saying.

"… So much blood. Everywhere. Oh God, it's everywhere. I can't stop it. Can't make it stop. Don't die. Don't die on me. Blood everywhere. Stop. Make it stop. How could you? Don't. So much blood. So much. Everywhere."

Jude's hands fisted in his hair, clenching tightly. Davis let out a breath.

"Damn it. Jude. Hey. Talk to me, man."

But he couldn't even see his brother. Davis tried to talk, and Jude just ignored him. Davis looked around, eyes finally landing, again, on the towel draped over the side of the tub. The dark red towel that matched the rug on the floor.

"Shit. That's it."

Davis pushed to his feet, grabbing the towel and pushing it into the tub, picking the rug up off the floor and doing the same with it. He stepped back over to his brother, kneeling in front of him again.

"It's gone, Jude. It's all clean now. Can you see it?"

Jude just kept muttering to himself, and Davis reached out to grab his shoulders.

"Jude!"

Jude jumped at the harshness of his brother's voice. Wide, dark eyes locked on Davis.

"It's okay. Everything's okay."

Jude looked to the tub, seeing nothing but the stark white of the tub and the floor. But the white took him back just as much as the dark red had. He gasped, whole body starting to shake, wide eyes going back to Davis as he kept sucking in air, getting nothing in his lungs. Davis scrambled to his feet, running to the stairs and grabbing hold of the bannister.

"Dad! Dad, help!"

Davis heard footsteps before he saw Julian at the bottom of the steps.

"Davis? What's—"   
"Dad, please! Hurry!"

Davis went running back to the bathroom, as Julian ran up the steps.

"Davis!"   
"Bathroom!"

Julian was out of breath when he came to a stop at the bathroom door. Davis looked up to him, blue eyes scared and full of worry. Julian knelt beside his sons, listening for a moment at the way Jude was gasping for breath, then looking up to Davis.

"What happened?"

Davis shook his head, stammering out his words.

"I—I don't—I don't know. He was fine, we were talking, then he said he needed to—to wash his hands."

Jude looked down to his hands, gasping again, then looking up and meeting Julian's eyes.

"Breathe out, Jude."

Jude shook his head, tears filling his eyes.

"Son, listen to me. You're all right. Everyone's all right. But you have to breathe for me."

Jude let out a sob, putting a hand on his chest.

"Hurts."  
"I know it hurts. Push the air out."

Jude gasped again, shaking his head until Davis slapped him, hard, on the back. The air went rushing out of Jude's lungs before he looked up and met Davis' tear-filled eyes. Davis shook his head, and Jude let out a shaky breath. Julian reached over and gripped Davis' shoulder for just a second, then faced Jude again.

"You with us, bud?"

Jude looked from his father to his brother, glancing over at the bathtub. He nodded slowly, and Julian groaned as he stood up, knees popping. Davis stood up, holding out a hand to Jude. Jude took it, standing to his feet. He let out a shaky breath, and Julian pushed a hand through his hair. Davis sighed.

"Jude, look—"  
"I just … I need some air."

Jude turned and ran from the bathroom, and when Davis started to go after him, Julian laid a hand against his chest.

"Give him a minute."  
"Dad, he—"  
"He needs a minute, son."

Davis hung his head, and Julian laid an arm over his shoulders.

"I know, Dave. I know."

* * *

 

Jude sat at the edge of the pool in the backyard. He dangled his feet in the water, mind flashing back to the last time he was near a pool, with Lydia. Every thought he had, didn't matter if it was good or bad, every-fucking-one led back to her. The way she smelled. Her laugh. Her hair. Her hands. Her lips.

He closed his eyes (Lydia's navy blue ones flashed in his mind) and leaned back, letting the setting sun warm his face. Lydia loves the sun. Her skin gets so tan in the summer, and somehow keeps that warmth in the winter.

God  _damn_ it.

He heard one of the French doors open, but he didn't turn around. It was one of two people, since the third was "just entirely too big to go waddling around a pool." And those had been her words, not his. Quiet footsteps sounded around the pool, and from them, Jude deduced who had joined him out here.

"Hey, Dad."

Julian smiled as he slid his feet into the water.

"Shit, that's cold."

Jude let out a laugh.

"Sorry. Should have warned you."

Julian shrugged his shoulders. They sat in silence for a minute, until Jude let out a sigh.

"Dad—"  
"I never told you about what I went through with Alex, did I?"

Jude looked over, and Julian smiled.

"I didn't think so."

He took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"It was … God, before your mom and I got married. We weren't even engaged yet, just dating. I never dated Alex, but she always had a crush on me."

Julian shook his head.

"I was so … Not obsessed with, but wrapped up in your mom. Alex was a thorn in her side, and Brooke's dislike was just exasperated by the way Alex acted around me. It got on my nerves after a while. Being away from Brooke, yet constantly around Alex…"

Julian sighed.

"It all came to a head one day. You know, like things usually do. Your mom had just told me that the doctors told her she couldn't have kids."

Julian laughed at the look on Jude's face. He reached over and ruffled Jude's hair.

"You were our miracles, kid. You and your brother and your sister."

Jude smiled as Julian put an arm around his shoulders and squeezed. Julian patted him on the back, then looked out over the pool, letting out a long sigh.

"This one day…"

Julian shook his head.

"I saw Alex, talked with her about this script we'd been writing. I let the stuff about your mom slip. I made Alex swear not to tell Brooke that I told, but she did anyway. She was just trying to help, but Brooke was already upset, and I wasn't helping. I didn't know how to help her."

Julian ran a hand over his face.

"I loved Brooke so much, and she was pushing me away, and it was all Alex's fault. That's what I believed. What I made myself believe, anyway. So I went to Alex and I just … I lit into her. Blamed all of my problems on her. Made her believe that no one wanted her."

Julian shook his head again.

"She kept telling me how she loved me, that she knew I loved her too, all this crap. And I told her that I did not love her. I didn't even like her. She was crying, and I just took off. After I saw Alex, your mom told me that she thought we should spend some time apart. So I guess that made me feel like I was justified in the way I had treated Alex."

He swallowed.

"I went to the bar, to drown my sorrows. Got a call from Alex, but I ignored it. She left me a voicemail, and I … I guess I couldn't ignore it for very long."

He leaned forward, staring into the pool.

"I still remember every single word of that voicemail. I remember her voice. The way she tried to sound strong, but I just knew she was crying."

Julian closed his eyes as the message went through his mind again.

_"I'm just calling to tell you how sorry I am for all the trouble that I've caused you, but you don't have to worry, 'cause from now on, I won't be around to cause you any pain. And in spite of everything that you said to me … I will always love you. Goodbye."_

Julian blew out a breath, shaking his head.

"I went to her motel room, and she … She, uh—"'

Julian let out a shaky breath, and Jude spoke up quietly.

"What happened?"

Julian looked over to his son. He took in a breath, then let it out slowly, reaching over and laying a hand on Jude's shoulder, squeezing gently.

"I found her in the bathtub."

Jude went still, heartbeat pounding in his ears. He shook his head quickly, then met his father's eyes.

"Was … was she …?"

Julian nodded, and Jude blew out his breath, gripping the edge of the pool on either side of him. Julian gripped Jude's shoulder again, and Jude looked up.

"Dad."   
"I know."

Jude shook his head, and Julian turned more to face his son. Jude shook his head again, and Julian reached out, grabbing his arms.

"Jude, listen to me. I know. I know what you're going through. If you would just talk to me, I could—"  
"What, Dad? You could what?"

Jude pulled his feet from the pool, standing to his feet.

"You didn't love Alex when you pulled her out of the tub. What, did you sit by her until she woke up? Tell her everything's going to be fine? I will bet you money that you didn't have to stand back and watch someone take her away from you. You didn't have to stand there while someone held you back while your heart was dragged away from you and taken to a fucking mental institution. So no, Dad. You don't know."

Jude turned to walk inside and Julian pushed to his feet.

"Hey!"

Jude stopped and Julian stepped forward.

"Don't you walk away from me!"

Jude whirled around.

"Why not? You're so damn good at it."

Jude walked into the house, slamming the door behind him. The door flung open a second later, and Julian jogged around to face Jude.

"I don't know what you're thinking, but my son does not talk to me like that."

Jude blew out his breath, and Julian stepped forward.

"You have had a shit go of things lately, and I understand that. It does not give you free range to do whatever you want with me or your mother, or Jamie Scott, you understand?"

Jude grit his teeth, and Julian let out a breath.

"Take a seat."

Jude rolled his eyes, and Julian stepped closer, sharpening his tone.

"Sit down!"

Jude sat down in one of the tall barstools, and Julian pushed a hand through his hair before he walked to the opposite side from Jude, leaning over to set his forearms on the counter.

"It's awful. It's horrible and ... wrong and no one should ever have to go through what you've gone through. But Jude. You've got to go on with your life, son."   
"How, Dad?"

Identical shades of brown eyes locked over the bar. Julian shook his head.

"I don't … I don't know."   
"You don't. I don't. Everyone knows exactly what I'm supposed to do, but no one knows how I'm supposed to do it."

Jude sniffled, running his wrist under his nose. Julian sighed.

"First of all … You've got to stop lashing out at everyone around you."

Jude let out a shaky breath as he looked to the counter. Julian pressed on.

"We all love you and we're all here to help you. But you've got to talk to us, Jude. Any of us. Your mom, me, your brother. Hell, even Alex or Owen. One of your friends in Tree Hill. Dude. You don't want us to get you another therapist, do you?"  
"You know about the therapist?"  
"Hey, even if I don't live there, you're still my son. I still worry about you, and your mom keeps me up-to-date."

Jude sighed.

"You guys have the weirdest relationship of any divorced people I've seen."

Julian laughed.

"We promised each other that we'd do anything it took for you kids. You and your brother and your sister and whoever this baby turns out to be … You guys are the greatest things I've ever done."

Jude sniffled again and gave a quiet laugh.

"Even greater than the Oscars?"

Julian threw his head back as he laughed, then reached over and ruffled Jude's hair again.

"Yes, even greater than the Oscars. Much, much greater."

Jude sighed.

"I just don't know what to do, Dad. I mean … I love Lydia so much. And it's not some little high school kind of thing. This is real, Dad. Real, in it for the long haul type of stuff."   
"Jude."

Jude stopped and looked up at his father. Julian smiled.

"I know."  
"You do?"

Julian leaned over, gripping Jude's shoulder.

"I know we thought it was just a little crush when you were younger, but man … I could see this coming from a mile away."  
"Really?"

Julian leaned back and nodded. He let out a laugh.

"You're a lot like me, Jude. When you love, you love hard."

Jude nodded slowly, then lifted his eyes again.

"So what do you think I should do?"

Julian smiled.

"What you've been doing. Just love her, Jude. Be there for her. It's not going to be like it was before. She's getting better, and they're teaching her how to better handle her problems and what she's feeling."

Jude nodded, and Julian went on.

"But, kid … You've got to take care of yourself before you can take care of her. You've got to make sure you're okay before you go about helping her at all, you got it?"

Jude let out a sigh, and Julian leaned closer.

"Look, I know I was kind of making fun of it before, but a therapist might really help you."  
"Dad, come on—"   
"Jude, there is no shame in it."  
"I don't want to spill my guts to some shrink, Dad."

Jude stood up, pushing a hand through his hair. Julian leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I know some people here. Can pull a few strings, find you someone."  
"Dad—"  
"This is Hollywood, Jude. Everyone has secrets and everyone wants to keep them hidden. Shrinks know how to keep their mouths shut."

Jude let out a laugh.

"Are you kidding me?"

Julian sighed.

"I want to help you, bud. Any way that I can. If I need to get you a shrink, I'll get you a shrink. If you need a pass to the batting cages or a punching bag or whatever, I will get it for you."

Jude stopped and ran his hands over his face.

"I don't know what I need, Dad."

He shook his head.

"No, that's a lie. I do know what I need, and she's in a mental hospital in South Carolina."

He hung his head, blowing out his breath. Julian stepped over, wrapping Jude in his arms, holding him close for a moment, closing his eyes when he felt Jude's grip tighten.

* * *

 

As the weeks went on and August came to an end, the boys made the most of their time away from home. Julian found a therapist that Jude agreed to talk to, and for a straight week, he spoke to her every single day. The twins and Julian also spent nearly every day at the batting cages, or the go-kart track, or the movies, Julian's office, baseball games, and anywhere else they wanted to go.

Davis found himself sleeping easier, since he wasn't spending as much time worried about his brother as he'd been doing. If he was being honest, he really didn't want to go home. However, he knew he had to go. Even more surprising than wanting to stay was the downright longing he felt to be there for the birth of his new brother or sister. He even went so far as to ask (read: Beg) his mother to let him, and Jude of course, stay for one more weekend. They didn't need "time to settle in." Seventeen years in Tree Hill meant they knew the place as well as they knew themselves. Davis even went so far as to threaten to FaceTime Brooke and by God, grovel, on his damn knees. That never came to pass, though, because as she usually did when it came to her sons, Brooke gave in.

And it was a good thing she did.

* * *

 

"Oh, holy CRAP, this hurts!"

Alex had started contracting early that morning, while she and Julian were still in bed, and the contractions had only recently started intensifying. Alex was panting, sitting on the exercise ball it had taken a team effort to assemble and set up in the living room. Only, she had moved the ball to the kitchen for some unknown reason. All she could say was that she felt more comfortable in the kitchen. Not that she'd ever spent much time there. The cooks usually had the weekends off, which was how Alex was currently laboring in the empty kitchen, with Julian and his sons standing back, kind of in awe, a little scared, and very uncomfortable. Julian stepped over, laying a hand atop her dark hair, which was pulled and twisted up into a messy bun.

"Breathe, honey."

Alex let out a laugh, shaking her head.

"I swear to God, Baker. You tell me to breathe one more time…"   
"Happy thoughts, Al. Remember? Peace. Calm."   
"You push a human being out of your hoo-ha and let's see how peaceful and calm you are. Oh, fu—"

Alex let out a groan as she reached over and gripped Julian's hand. When the contraction was over, Julian glanced up at Davis, who nodded as he looked up from his watch.

"Seven minutes."   
"Seven?"

Davis nodded to Jude, who pushed both hands through his hair. Jude let out a breath, then looked down at his father and stepmother.

"Seven is an excellent time to go to the hospital."  
"No!"

Davis and Jude both closed their eyes as Alex bounced on the ball, narrowing her dark eyes and pointing at Jude.

"I have told you. I am having this baby right – Oh. Oh, no. Hang on."

She stopped bouncing, going still and reaching for Julian as she let out a groan. Julian moved to rub at her back, and she let out a quiet whine. Jude chewed on his thumbnail until Alex blew out a breath, shaking her head as she looked up at him. She pointed at him again.

"I am giving birth in familiarity, in an environment that is calming to me and therefore, to the baby. What's more calming than home?"  
"A nice, clean, sterile hospital with doctors and nurses and—"   
"Shut up, Jude!"

Alex let out a laugh when Davis and Julian spoke at the same time. Jude threw his hands up and stalked out of the room, and Julian shook his head as he looked to Davis.

"Call the midwife again?"

Davis nodded, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he walked out of the room. Alex blew out a breath and shook her head.

"I need to—to stand up."

Julian nodded, moving to stand in front of her, offering his hands. She took them, standing to her feet, letting out a groan as she gripped his arms.

"Another one?"  
"Mm-hmm."   
"Already?"

Alex groaned as she leaned forward, resting her forehead on Julian's chest. He gently rubbed her arms, and as the contraction came to an end, Davis stepped back into the kitchen. Julian looked over to him, and Davis gave him a forced smile. Jude walked back into the room, going to stand beside his brother, and Davis quietly cleared his throat.

"This is one of those good news/bad news type things."

Three varying shades of brown eyes turned to look at him and Davis sighed.

"The midwife is on her way."   
"But?"

Davis bit his teeth together.

"There's a massive pile-up on the 405. Every network is covering it, and they're estimating hours before traffic can even begin to start moving again. That's the … That's the bad news."   
"Damn it."

Alex reached back, lightly hitting Jude's arm. Before doing the same to Julian's chest. Jude let out a sigh, pushing his hands through his hair.

"There's no way to get to the hospital but on the 405. So we … we're stuck here no matter what."

Julian pushed a hand through his hair, looking down at Alex. She had her eyes closed, forehead resting against his chest as she took slow, deep breaths. Julian nodded.

"Okay. All right. Everything is fine. We've probably got time. This can take a while. Or—or so I've heard."

They all knew the twins' birth story, of how Brooke had fallen off of a stepladder, then rushed to the hospital where an emergency C-section had delivered two healthy baby boys. Due to that, Meg's birth had been a scheduled C-section as well, so Julian had never actually dealt with anyone in labor. Julian smiled.

"And on top of everything else, her water hasn't even broken. That's when the show really gets going, so we've got plenty of—"

Alex lifted her head from his chest, locking eyes with him before they both glanced down, at Julian's suddenly soaked feet. Jude bit his tongue, then cleared his throat.

"You were saying, Dad?"

Davis let out a laugh.

"This shit only happens in movies, I swear. This is awesome!"

Davis ducked at the family package of M&Ms that was suddenly thrown at his head. Julian looked down at Alex, who shook her head.

"I'm not going to panic. Everything's going to be fine. We're all fine. Baby's fine. We're—"

She let out a gasp as another contraction happened, and Davis and Jude both looked at their watches. Five minutes later, when another contraction hit, Alex shook her head.

"I need to lay down or something."  
"What about the ball?"

Alex shook her head as she grit her teeth.

"I want to lay down."  
"Okay. Let's go—"   
"Dad."

Julian turned to Davis, who shook his head.

"She can't make it up the stairs. What if a contraction hits?"  
"Then I'll be there to—"   
"What, carry me? Like hell. I'm too big."

The boys all spoke up then, telling her she wasn't fat at all, she was beautiful, and Alex rolled her eyes, then held up a hand.

"Drop it."

She let out a breath, leaning on Julian again. He gently rubbed her back, and Jude turned to Davis.

"Go upstairs and get the down comforters from a couple of the beds. Every pillow you can find, and lots of sheets."

Julian and Alex both looked to Jude, and he shrugged his shoulders.

"She wants to lay down. This really won't work on the couch, but we've got an expanse of floor here. Let's get her as comfortable as we can and get this show on the road!"

Davis nodded, turning and running up the stairs. Half an hour later, Alex was lying on a mattress that Jude and Davis wrangled from one of the beds upstairs down to the living room. Jude had put two fitted sheets on the mattress, piled pillows on it, and Alex was currently laying back, tears leaking from her eyes, breathing hard as she came down from another contraction. Julian walked into the room, eyes wide as he held his phone in his hand. Davis and Jude were kneeling by the bed, each letting Alex hold one of their hands, biting back any noise they wanted to make from her grinding the bones of their hands together. They all turned and looked at Julian, who shook his head.

"Traffic hasn't moved. She said we … We're going to have to do this without her."

Alex fell back onto the pillows, letting go of the boys' hands. They each let out a breath, shaking their hands out. Jude looked up to find that all of the color had drained from his father's face, and he sprang to his feet. He took hold of Julian's arm as he stumbled. Davis scrambled up and took hold of Julian's other side. They walked him to the couch, making him sit and put his head between his legs. Jude ran a hand over his face.

"Davis, sit with Alex."

Davis nodded, watching his brother as he walked out of the room. He heard noises coming from the kitchen and swallowed, letting Alex hold his hand as another contraction ripped through her. Alex shook her head when the contraction was over, looking at Davis.

"Go—go check on your brother."  
"Al, I—"   
"I'm fine. Not going anywhere. Go."

Davis nodded, standing up and jogging to the kitchen. Alex let out a breath as she laid back on the pillows. She reached up a hand and Julian took it, letting out a shaky breath.

* * *

 

Davis pushed open the kitchen door to find Julian at the stove, with four pots in front of him. Davis rubbed a hand across his mouth, then spoke quietly.

"Hungry?"

Jude glanced over his shoulder, fire in his dark eyes.

"We're about to deliver a baby, Davis. You need water. I don't know why, but everyone always boils water in the movies, so I figured I might as well get a head start!"

Davis held his hands up.

"Why are you so mad?"  
"Because this is your fault!"

Davis' mouth dropped open as he pointed his hands at his chest.

"My fault? I didn't knock her up!"  
"No, but you made us stay for this! I would have been perfectly fine with the text or the FaceTime or hell, even a SnapChat letting us know that the kid was here. But no. You had to see it, so now we have to fucking deliver the kid."

Jude grabbed onto the counter, flexing his hands. He blew out his breath, then took in another slow, deep breath. He turned back, facing Davis.

"I'm sorry. It's not your fault. I just … I don't know what to do here. I feel helpless, again, and someone's counting on me to make it okay, again, and I don't know how."

Davis sighed, stepping closer.

"You're not alone here, Jude. I'm right here, too, and so is Dad, but I don't know how much help he's going to be."   
"Ten bucks says he faints."

Davis laughed, but nodded.

"Deal. But you're right. I got us into this mess … kind of. But I'm here, and you and I together are going to get through this, okay?"

Jude nodded, and Davis reached out and squeezed his shoulder. Davis looked at the stove, at the large pots full of water.

"How the hell are we going to do this? I don't know nothing 'bout birthin' no babies."

Jude punched him, and Davis scowled as he rubbed his shoulder.

"First of all, no more quotes from any movie. Got it?"

Davis rolled his eyes and blew out his breath.

"Fine."   
"Second… I was thinking about Googling it, but to be completely honest … I'm terrified of what I might see."

Davis let out a laugh, then nodded.

"I don't blame you. Hey, what about calling somebody?"  
"Like who?"

Davis shrugged his shoulders.

"We don't know any doctors. Especially not any baby doctors. Christ, what have we done?"

Jude let out a laugh.

"I should have included you in that bet. Looking a little green there, bro."

Davis held up his middle finger, and Jude laughed again. As some of the water started to bubble, Jude let out a sigh.

"We better do it."

Davis looked over at him, and Jude swallowed.

"Look—look the stuff up."

Davis nodded, letting out a sigh of his own, pulling his phone from his pocket.

* * *

 

Jude turned the heat down on the stove, putting lids on the pots. He glanced over his shoulder at Davis, who was still leaning over the trash can.

"You're such a diva."   
"Fuck you."

Jude laughed as he poked his head out the door and saw Julian kneeling beside Alex as she panted through a contraction. He walked back into the kitchen to see Davis with a bottle of water in his hand, standing at the sink, swishing the water in his mouth before spitting it out. Davis looked over and shook his head.

"That was the most disgusting thing I have ever—"

He held up a hand to his mouth as Jude laughed again.

"That 'disgusting thing' is the miracle of life."  
"Don't feed me that bullshit. We're going to have to—Oh, god."  
"Do not throw up again. Christ Almighty."

Davis let out a groan, and Jude blew out his breath.

"Come on, you pansy. We've got work to do."

Jude pushed through the kitchen door, and Julian looked up, fear evident in his eyes.

"She said she—she needs to … to—"  
"Push!"

Alex let out a yell as she gripped Julian's hand, and he yelped as he squeezed his eyes shut. Jude glanced back at Davis, who was pale, and cursed under his breath. He rolled his shoulders, leaning his neck to each side, sucking in a breath as it popped.

"Okay."

Jude knelt down, opening the first aid kit he'd found upstairs and pulling out a pair of gloves. Why there were surgical gloves in the kit, he didn't know, but he thanked God for it. He took in a deep breath, then swallowed.

"Davis, hand me that sheet."

Davis walked over and grabbed the sheet, Jude unfolded it, then draped it over Alex's legs. He felt his hands shake, and he cursed under his breath again. He shook his head, then felt a calm wash over him.

_"You can do this."_

Jude's eyes flew open, and he glanced behind him. Davis gave him a look, but Jude shook his head, letting out a laugh. It was like Lydia had been right there, whispering in his ear. That spurred him on, and he felt a clinical sense of duty come over him.

"Alex, pull your legs up for me."

She bent her knees, groaning as she leaned forward. Julian rubbed her arms, and Jude glanced back, locking eyes with Davis.

"Towels. Lots and lots of towels."

Davis nodded gratefully, hightailing it from the living room. Jude looked around, standing up to grab the reading lamp from beside his dad's chair and bringing it closer, turning on the extra-bright bulb. Jude pushed the sheet back, eyes widening.

"Wow. Oh—okay. Hang on. Alex, do not push. Do you hear me? Don't."

Jude jumped up, running into the kitchen and grabbing the things he'd found and sterilized earlier, while Davis had been puking from the video they'd watched. He hurried back into the living room, slipping the gloves onto his hands. He said a quick prayer to himself, hoping someone was listening, then looked up.

"Okay. On the next contraction, I want you to push."  
"Wait, what? Are you—"  
"Dad, the baby is nearly here right now. Alex, did you hear me?"

She nodded, blinking away tears and gripping Julian's hand. Julian was pale again, and Davis walked back in the living room, arms piled high with towels. Jude looked up, motioning his head towards Julian.

"Shit. Dad, don't pass out!"

Alex dug her nails into his hand, and Julian shook his head.

"Okay—I'm—I'm okay."

Jude shook his head, and bent down again. Davis walked over, prying Alex's hands from Julian's, pushing his dad back to the couch. Julian stood up long enough to collapse on the couch, putting his head in his hands.

"Davis!"

Davis turned around, seeing Jude looking up at him.

"Alex needs your help."

Davis swallowed, but walked over, kneeling down behind Alex, offering his hands. She grabbed them, gripping them hard, and pushed. She let out a yell, and Davis watched Jude's eyes widen.

"O—okay. Good! Good! Keep going!"

Alex yelled louder, then almost crumpled down. Davis helped hold her up, grabbing one of the washcloths he'd brought down and pressing it against her sweat-soaked neck.

"Breathe, Al. You got this. You're doing so good. So good."

Alex groaned as another contraction hit, gripping Davis' hands again. She pushed and Davis watched Jude move around, and he squeezed his eyes shut. The contractions were right on top of each other, and Alex had just enough time to take a few deep breaths before she was pushing again. Davis wondered where the little towel of stuff that Jude kept grabbing had come from, but he couldn't focus on that, not when Julian was almost passed out behind him and Alex was currently crushing every bone in his hand. Jude looked up.

"Alex, one more push and the shoulders will be out. Okay?"

She shook her head and let out a sob, and Davis gripped her hands.

"You can do this. Come on. One big push and we're almost there."

Alex sobbed again, letting out a yell as the contraction hit, and she pushed. Jude let out a laugh.

"Good! That's so good. Almost. Hang on."

She grit her teeth as Davis looked back to Julian, then down to Jude. Jude looked up and nodded, then looked to Alex.

"One more push."  
"I can't."

Alex sobbed into Davis' shoulder, and he rubbed her arm. He looked to Jude.

"Look at me."

Alex shook her head, and Jude spoke louder.

"Alex, look at me."

She opened her eyes, and Jude nodded.

"All you've got to do is one more big push, and the baby will be here, okay?"  
"I can't."  
"You can. You have to. The baby needs you to, okay?"

She sobbed, and Davis squeezed her shoulder.

"Come on, Al. You can do this. I know you can. One more push."  
"I can't!"  
"You can."

They all turned to the couch, in time to see Julian slide off of it, pretty much crawling over to his wife. Alex looked at him, tears in her eyes and slipping down her cheeks. Jude took her face in his hands and gently kissed her. He took one of her hands and brought it to his chest, holding her head with his other hand.

"You ready?"

Alex nodded, and Jude whistled quietly to Davis.

"Grab a couple of those towels for me."

Davis nodded, and Alex moaned as she felt the contraction coming on. Davis handed the towels to Jude, then took Alex's hand. Julian never took his eyes from her.

"Come on, baby. Do it now. Push."

Alex screamed as she pushed, and after a few seconds, she let out a gasp suddenly, dropping back into Julian's arms. Julian looked down, at Jude, whose eyes were huge.

"Jude? Jude!"

Jude swallowed, then let out a laugh. Alex shook her head.

"Why isn't he crying?"

Jude smiled as he shook his head, never looking up.

"There's no reason to cry."

Davis kept looking from Jude to Alex, and Jude reached for something on the towel next to him. After a second, a cry was heard, quiet at first, then growing louder. Jude laughed again, shaking his head as he took one of the towels and used it to clean the baby up as much as he could. Davis shook his head.

"Dude. Is it a boy or a girl?"

Jude was still staring at the baby, smiling widely, murmuring under his breath. He finally looked up, smiling at Davis before looking to Alex and Julian.

"It's a girl."

Alex let out a laugh, and Julian bent to kiss her forehead. Alex was crying and laughing, squeezing Julian's hand.

"You were right!"

He nodded, and there was a loud knock at the front door. Davis stood up to answer it, walking back a few minutes later, laughing quietly.

"Well… The midwife is here."

* * *

 

Davis was doing the only thing he could at the moment: standing in the kitchen, leaning against the wall, taking in long, deep breaths. He was coming down from the adrenaline rush that he'd had all day long, and his head had been giving tell-tale throbs of the headache that was sure to be brewing. But, he'd taken the Tylenol Jude had pushed into his hand before he'd gone back to see if the midwife needed any help, so he was all right.

He couldn't stop smiling. He had a baby sister. She hadn't cried when she was born, but had stared up at Jude with wide, dark eyes. She had a head full of dark hair, and once Jude had made her cry for everyone, she'd quickly quieted down, staring up at whomever was holding her with her beautiful eyes.

He let out a laugh, shaking his head. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and pulled it out, smiling even wider when he saw who was calling.

"Hello? … Hey. … Yeah, finally. … It's a girl. … Did you get the picture? … She's so tiny and so beautiful. … Well, you heard about that accident on the 405, right? … Yeah, the midwife was stuck in that traffic. … Swear to God. … No, actually, Jude delivered her. … No shit. … It was awesome. Just like in the movies. … Hell, no! I sat off to the side and tried not to puke everywhere."

Davis laughed, holding the phone close to his ear, glancing around the corner, making sure he was alone.

"I, uh ... Yeah. … Sunday. Our plane leaves Sun—tomorrow. … I know. But we can—… I know. It's just so complicated."

Davis leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes.

"I know. … What are you doing tonight? … Really?"

He opened his eyes, standing up straighter.

"Okay. … No, I will. … I promise. … Once everyone's asleep, I'll meet you there. … Okay. … Yeah. … All right. Bye."

Davis ended the call, biting his lip.

"Who ya talking to?"

Davis jumped from the wall, hanging his head as Jude laughed behind him. Davis walked over, slapping Jude's shoulder.

"Don't do that!"  
"Not so funny when the tables are turned, is it?"

Davis grumbled under his breath, then watched as Jude walked to the sink and washed his hands. Again. Davis cleared his throat.

"How is everyone?"

Jude nodded.

"They're fine. Perfect, she said. I—I did everything right."

Jude glanced over his shoulder, giving his brother a smile.

"Amber was impressed."  
"Amber the midwife?"

Jude nodded. Davis poked his lip out as he nodded.

"So you gonna deliver babies now?"

Jude shrugged his shoulders. Davis stood up straighter.

"Wait a second. What was that?"

Jude let out a laugh, tossing the dish towel aside as he turned to face his brother.

"That was … incredible. One minute, Alex is pregnant. The next, I'm holding a baby in my arms. A real, live, squirmy baby."

Jude shook his head.

"It is a miracle. I don't care what anyone says."   
"So you're really thinking about it?"

A wide smile crossed Jude's face and he nodded. He walked closer to Davis, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

"Who knows? You may be the not-quite-as-good-looking brother of Doctor Jude Baker."  
"Oh, don't make me laugh. Everyone knows I'm the better looking one."

They stepped into the living room, and their dad spoke.

"I don't know. I think this little one's giving both of you a run for your money."

Davis smiled as he walked over, kneeling beside Alex, staring at the sleeping baby in her arms. He lifted a hand, barely running his finger over her little hand.

"You're so right. She's gorgeous."

Alex laughed quietly.

"Here."

She moved the baby around and Davis' eyes widened as she set the baby in his arms. Davis blinked hard, and Alex patted his shoulder.

"Just support her head. That's it."

Davis blinked back tears as he stared at the little girl cradled against his chest.

"Oh, wow."

Jude stood back, a wide smile on his face.

"So, does she have a name yet?"

Davis tore his eyes away from the baby to give Jude a look. Alex let out a laugh.

"What's that look?"

Davis gave her a sheepish smile.

"I just … I know it's kind of trendy these days to give kids crazy names, and I just … I don't want her to be named Pumpernickel or something."

Alex leaned forward in the chair and laughed, while Julian did the same thing from where he was standing. When they'd calmed down, Alex leaned back in the chair, fixing the blanket around her.

"We're not naming her Pumpernickel. But we have decided on a sort of different name."

She smiled up at Julian, who stepped over and took her hand. Alex looked back at the boys, smiling wider.

"We decided to name her Ever."

Davis looked up, then back to the baby with a smile.

"Ever. It's cute. I think it fits her."

Julian cleared his throat.

"And we were still debating on a middle name, until today."

He nodded towards Jude, who raised an eyebrow.

"She wouldn't be here if it weren't for you, son."

Jude let out a laugh.

"Oh, come on."  
"No, seriously."

Alex let out a laugh.

"Davis was gagging in the kitchen. Julian was nearly passed out on the couch. You were the only one who kept your head and got me through it."

Jude rubbed the back of his neck, and Davis cradled the baby closer. Alex let out a sigh, then smiled.

"Would you mind if her middle name was Jude?"

Jude blinked, and Davis' smile widened.

"Ever Jude Baker. Oh, yeah. Little sister, you are too cool."

Jude cleared his throat and nodded.

"That would … That would be okay with me."

Julian walked over and wrapped Jude in a hug, and Davis took a few steps over, passing the baby to Jude. He smiled, walking over and sitting down, staring at the baby as she yawned, then settled down, content in his arms. Jude let out a quiet laugh, sniffling as tears welled up in his eyes.

"Hi, Ever. Happy Birthday."


	17. Your Guardian Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Your Guardian Angel" by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

With September came school, and junior year for Sawyer, Davis, and Jude. Lydia was showing improvement daily, but she still wasn't ready to come home. The twins still worked at the café and Clothes Over Bros, when they were needed. But Davis was back on the basketball team, and Jude had volunteered to be the manager of the team, sticking as close to his brother as he could. Sawyer refused to talk to Davis, refused to even look at him, and was downright icy to him if they happened to share a shift at the café. She spent a lot of her time with Logan, anyway, and two weeks after school started, they met on the bleachers at the Rivercourt.

"Hey, Blondie."

Sawyer smiled, hugging her jacket tighter around her. Logan walked up the bleachers, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, and sat beside her. They sat backwards, facing away from the court and watching the river. Sawyer let out a sigh, moving to lay her head on Logan's shoulder. He took his hand out of his pocket, gently rubbing it up and down her arm.

"How are you doing?"

She nodded.

"Tired. But fine."   
"You feeling any better?"

She smiled.

"Yeah. The nausea passed almost as fast as it showed up."   
"Just those two days, huh?"

She nodded, and Logan smiled. He let out a sigh.

"Did you tell anybody?"

She scooted closer to him, shaking her head.

"Just you."

Logan squeezed his eyes shut.

"Saw, you've got to—"  
"I know. It's just …"

She sat up, pushing a hand through her hair. She straightened up, picking the polish off her fingernails, staring out at the water. Logan leaned forward, watching her, finally speaking quietly.

"What?"

She let out a shaky breath, then turned to look at him, tears shining in her blue eyes.

"I can't do this, Logan. I'm seventeen. I'm not ready to be anybody's mom."

Logan nodded, a worried look on his face, and Sawyer blew out another breath, sniffling as a tear slipped down her cheek. She shook her head.

"I think I …"

She reached into her jacket and pulled out a pamphlet, handing it to Logan. He took one look at the cover and closed his eyes.

"Sawyer…"

She let out a quiet sob and nodded.

"I know. I know, and I'm awful but—"  
"No, no. Hey."

He reached over and took her hands.

"You're not awful. You're not."

He brought her closer, wrapping his arms around her as she closed her eyes, resting her chin on his shoulder. She let out another breath, speaking softly.

"I need someone to go with me, to … to drive me home and make sure I'm okay."

Logan nodded.

"You want me to be your person?"

Sawyer groaned, leaning back and punching his shoulder.

"I knew making you watch those _Grey's Anatomy_ re-runs was a bad idea."

He let out a laugh, rubbing his shoulder.

"Well, I will gladly be your person."

Sawyer smiled, then sighed.

"I have an appointment for Friday morning at ten."

Logan nodded.

"It's in Raleigh, though. Almost on the outskirts of town."

Logan smiled.

"Okay."

Sawyer sighed again, and Logan pulled her to his side, letting her rest her head on his shoulder again.

"I'm doing the right thing, right?"

Logan closed his eyes, and she whispered again.

"I don't have a choice on this. I mean, I don't … I drank. A lot. I smoked a few times. I don't even know who the father is. That makes me want to vomit every time I think about it. This kid could be …"

Logan moved to kiss her forehead.

"It's okay. It's going to be okay, Saw. I promise."

Her arms came around him and he let out a breath, staring out at the river as dread started to create a pit in his stomach.

* * *

 

Early Friday morning, Logan pulled up to the Scott house. Sawyer walked out of the front door, pulling it closed behind her, tightening her jacket around her as she walked to the truck. Logan smiled at her, reaching over and taking her hand, giving her a smile. She nodded to him, not even able to force a smile. Logan gently squeezed her hand, driving down the road and out of town.

The drive was quiet, neither of them saying anything. Sawyer had put the address into the truck's GPS, and Logan had the radio playing softly. Sawyer stared out the window, curled up into a ball against the door, and Logan alternated between watching the road and glancing over at her.

Logan pulled into a gas station an hour from Tree Hill, to stretch his legs and grab a cup of coffee. Sawyer shook her head when he asked if she wanted anything. Not only was the thought of food making her sick, but she was afraid if she even opened her mouth she'd puke everywhere. She rested her forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching Logan as he stood near the door of the gas station, sipping his coffee.

Tears welled up in her eyes. Here she was, in Logan's truck, getting Logan to be her chauffer, her person, and he was standing in the brisk morning air, drinking his coffee in the cold because the smell made her nauseous. She closed her eyes, wishing again that things could be so very different.

* * *

 

"Saw? Hey, wake up."

She blinked her eyes, sitting up and yawning. She let out a groan as she stretched out her legs, shaking her head. She looked groggy eyes over at Logan, and he gave her a soft smile.

"We're here."

Sawyer looked out the window, swallowing hard. Logan let out a sigh as he pushed a hand through his hair. Sawyer closed her eyes, reaching back and gripping his hand. Logan squeezed her hand just as tightly, and Sawyer let out a breath.

"Will you stay out here?"  
"What?"

She nodded, continuing to stare out the window, unable to face him.

"I need to—I need to do this on my own."  
"Sawyer, I—"  
"Please, Logan."

He swallowed, closing his eyes as he gripped the steering wheel with the hand that wasn't clinging to hers. After a few silent moments, he opened his eyes, staring at the back of her head, since she still wouldn't look at him. He cleared his throat, watching as she looked to her left, at the floorboard. Logan nodded.

"If that's … If that's what you want."

Sawyer nodded, and Logan blew out his breath.

"The second it's over, you tell them to come get me. The second, Sawyer."

She nodded again, and Logan stared out the window. After a moment, he closed his eyes, then looked back to the passenger's seat.

"Saw, look at me."

She finally did, tears shining in her blue eyes. Logan reached over, cupping her cheek in his hand.

"It's okay. I'll be right out here, and if you change your mind, I can be inside in a matter of seconds."

Sawyer nodded, and Logan let out a sigh. He climbed out of the truck, walking around and opening her door for her. He helped her out of the truck, squeezing his eyes shut when she threw her arms around his neck. He pulled her close, one hand at the back of her head, holding her close to him. Sawyer's tears soaked into his shirt, but he didn't say a word.

After a little while, she sighed, pulling back, looking up at him. Logan bent down, closing his eyes as he laid his lips on hers. Her hands cradled his face, kissing him back, and he rested his forehead against hers.

"I'll be right here, okay?"

She murmured an "okay" back to him, and Logan found the strength to pull away, to press a kiss to her forehead. Sawyer nodded, squeezing his hand again, letting go and walking into the clinic, stopping at the door and looking back at him for just a moment, then walking inside. When the door closed behind her, Logan let out a curse, pushing both of his hands through his hair, then turning and kicking the passenger's side tire.

* * *

 

His truck wasn't the only vehicle in the parking lot. There currently was a Nissan Maxima, a Toyota Corolla that had to be on its last leg, a brand-spankin'-new Dodge Charger, along with a couple of Ford trucks. They'd all pulled up at different times, and a few other cars had come and gone. He'd long since given up on people-watching. Too much rolling through his mind. He'd tried to sit in the truck, play a few CDs he'd found in the console, but he gave up on that, too. He'd walked around the parking lot for a while, but he'd given that up when he realized he couldn't take two steps without looking back at the door of the clinic.

So now he was leaned up against the side of the truck, arms on the toolbox in the back, staring at the door. The word "Pathetic" had never truly had a meaning until Logan Evans came along.

He pushed his hand through his hair again, wanting it all to be over, wanting it never to have happened, wanting to go back in time. He looked at his watch and cursed under his breath. Sawyer had been inside for a total of ten minutes. No doubt spending all of the time filling out paperwork. He was never going to make it.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he let out a sigh, running a hand over his face before he reached in his pocket. He closed his eyes when he saw who was calling. Keeping his eyes shut, he cleared his throat and lifted the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"  
_"Hey, bud."_

Logan squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lips.

"Hey, Mom."   
_"Got an early start this morning?"_

Logan looked over to the door of the clinic.

"You could say that."

He could almost hear Quinn's smile.

_"Well, your sister said to tell you that her colored pencils were in your truck, and now her life is over since you're mysteriously missing from breakfast."_   
"Sorry, I didn't … I didn't even notice."  
_"Eh, she'll live. So what are you doing?"_

Logan closed his eyes again, lifting his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"I, uh … I'm just—"

Logan blew out his breath, and Quinn's voice was soft.

_"Logan? Is everything okay?"_

Logan let out a laugh as tears welled up in his eyes.

"No. No, it's not."  
_"What's wrong?"_

Logan let out a sob, looking at the door as tears slid down his cheeks.

"Mom, I—I can't … I can't tell you."   
_"Are you all right?"_

Logan sighed, nodding his head.

"Yeah, I—I'm okay."   
_"Is it one of your friends?"_

Logan sniffled, nodding again.

"Yeah."  
_"Are they in trouble or something?"_

Logan wiped his eyes, letting out a sigh.

"Yes. And I wish I could tell you. God, Mom, I'd give anything to be able to tell you, but I just—"  
_"It's okay, sweetheart. Just breathe."_

Logan let out a shaky breath, looking to the clinic door and feeling his face scrunch up as his eyes filled with tears again. Quinn's soft voice nearly did him in.

_"Oh, honey."_

Logan let out another sob, trying his best to fight them back, and failing.

"I want to tell you, Mom. I want to talk to you so bad, but I—I can't."  
_"Okay. It's—honey, it's okay. Is there anything I can do?"_

Logan hung his head as he cried, breaking Quinn's heart with every sniffle she heard. After a few minutes, he was able to compose himself, wiping his face, taking in short, sharp breaths.

"I love you, Mom."  
_"I love you too, Logan. You are a good man. And this friend is lucky to have you."_

Logan smiled, letting out a quiet breath.

_"If you need me, you know where I am."_  
"I—I know, Mom. Thanks."  
_"Hang in there, honey. It's going to be okay."_

Logan nodded.

"I hope you're right."

Logan hung up the phone, letting out a long breath, pushing his hands through his hair. He rubbed his hands over his face, wiping the tears away, looking to the clinic as he heard the door open. He rounded the truck before he realized what he was doing.

Suddenly, Sawyer was in his arms, sobbing almost hysterically. He held her as close as he could, trying to calm her down, until she shook her head, pushing him back just a bit, keeping her hands on his arms.

"I—I ca …"

She looked up at him, tears cascading down her cheeks as she shook her head again.

"I couldn't do it."

Logan seemed to deflate then, letting out a long, deep breath, moving to take her back in his arms, holding her tightly.

"It's okay. It's going to be okay, Sawyer. I promise."

* * *

 

Logan drove around Raleigh until he found a restaurant for them to have lunch in. They were that cliché couple who sat on the same side of the booth, and Sawyer didn't even care. She snuggled up to Logan, as close to him as she could, until their food arrived. They untangled themselves as they started to eat, both of them staying quiet, until Sawyer let out a sigh.

"What are we going to do, Logan?"

He smiled, reaching over her and grabbing the bottle of ketchup.

"I'm not entirely sure, but I'm thinking."

Sawyer nodded, reaching over and stealing one of his fries. He smiled, picking up his burger and taking a bite of it. Sawyer ate one of her chicken strips, then looked at him again.

"What are you thinking?"

Logan grinned around the huge bite he'd just taken. He chewed for a moment, swallowed, then turned to Sawyer.

"There's a couple of options."

She nodded, stealing another of his fries. He lifted an eyebrow, and she shrugged.

"Yours taste better."  
"Yours are the exact same, I swear."

She shook her head, and he let out a quiet laugh. After a minute, Logan spoke quietly.

"We could get married."

Sawyer looked to him, blue eyes wide.

"What?"

Logan nodded. Sawyer shook her head, her whole body shaking slightly.

"Are you … Have you lost your mind?"   
"Just calm down."  
"Logan, we can't get married. I'm not even legal yet, and the age difference is a big deal. Besides, this isn't even your—"  
"No one needs to know that. I can say it's mine. I'd be glad to."

Something in his voice made her stop. He didn't wish it was his baby … did he? Sawyer laid a hand against her stomach, then shook her head.

"That's … We can't. We cannot do that."

Logan nodded.

"Okay. Okay, then."

He ignored the twinge of regret that seemed to have appeared in his mind and cleared his throat.

"You could always give the baby up for adoption."

Sawyer nodded slowly.

"I—I thought about that. Giving the baby to someone who can't have any kids."

Logan smiled.

"That would be awesome."

Sawyer smiled as she looked down at her plate. She looked back up to Logan, and when he saw the tears in her eyes, he reached over and took her hand.

"You don't have to decide right this second. We got some time."

She let out a quiet laugh and nodded.

"Yeah, we do."

Logan finished off his burger, smiling when he saw that all of Sawyer's food was gone. He laid some money on the table and held her hand as they walked out to his truck. He opened her door for her, helped her in, and stood there until she looked up at him. He just stared at her for a moment, then spoke softly, so quietly his lips barely even moved. But she heard every word.

"You're not alone in this. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

She nodded, and he leaned forward, kissing her forehead before walking around the truck and climbing in his side. He started the truck, heading back for Tree Hill, smiling when she reached over and took hold of his hand.

* * *

 

October was unseasonably cold for Tree Hill. Sawyer wasn't sure what was worse, the chill outside or the chill inside her house. She finally decided that inside was worse, and it was only expounded on when Lucas moved out on October seventh. "Trial separation," they called it. Not a divorce, not yet, but it was damn close. Sure felt like one, to Sawyer and Ellie.

Davis dropped by the house right after Lucas left. Ellie let him in and he walked right up to Sawyer's room. She turned from the window, where she'd been sitting and crying, watching her dad drive away, and when she saw him, she stood up, yelling at him, calling him horrible names, saying awful things about him to his face, and he just stood there. He took it, anything and everything she threw at him.

And when she was done yelling and her knees gave out, he caught her, lowered her to the floor and held her in his arms as she cried like she hadn't since her grandfather died.

Davis knew. He knew what it was like to have your dad leave, to have the one person you'd always looked up to, your hero, suddenly lose his super powers. He knew how it felt to realize that your parents were ridiculously human, and how the shock and pain that accompanied that felt.

So he let her yell. And when she was done, he let her cry.

She wanted to tell him. But she couldn't handle the thought of disappointing him. Or hurting him. Or what if he felt responsible, since she sort of fell apart after he left? No, she couldn't have him blaming himself. So she didn't tell him. She didn't tell anyone. No one knew, except for Logan, and the doctor he'd all but forced her to go see.

She was now five months along, and beginning to have trouble buttoning the new, larger-sized jeans she'd bought a month ago. She'd felt the baby move two weeks ago, and Logan had felt it just last night. There was an appointment today, and the doctor had said something about maybe finding out if it was a boy or a girl. Logan had been with her to every appointment she'd had, constantly texting and nagging her about taking vitamins and exercising some and eating healthy.

He'd learned not to say anything when she ordered extra pickles on her burgers, or both a milkshake and an ice cream cone, and he'd just pull out a roll of Tums an hour after she insisted they eat at the Mexican restaurant in town. She was on a spinach kick lately, and so far, anything that had even the tiniest bit of spinach in it was fair game. The guys at the Subway knew to load her sandwich down when they saw her coming, but they'd also learned to wait just a minute to be sure, after the tomato craving two weeks before that went away to make room for the spinach kick.

* * *

 

A knock at her bedroom door brought Sawyer to reality. She dropped her hands from her stomach, reached and grabbed her big, fluffy robe and wrapped it around her.

"Yeah?"  
"It's me."

Sawyer let out a breath and walked over to open the door. Logan smiled at her as she ushered him in, then grinned as she pulled the robe off her shoulders. She gave him a look and he let out a quiet laugh.

"What?"

She waved an arm at her closet, then looked down at her stomach.

"I'm huge."  
"You are not."  
"I can't button my pants."

Logan made a face, and she rolled her eyes.

"Shut up."  
"I didn't say anything!"

Sawyer sighed, walking to the bed and flopping down on her back. Logan just grinned, walking over and sitting beside her.

"I brought this for you."

She cut her eyes to him, and he laughed again, taking out an oversized Arizona Cardinals sweatshirt. Sawyer sat up and reached for it, making Logan smile as she ran her fingers over it.

"It's soft."  
"I know. I might have lied about my size, so…"   
"It's really big."  
"Big enough to …"

Sawyer smiled, then let out a laugh.

"To conceal a bump. Hang on."

She stood up, turning to the side, and Logan swallowed hard when he saw her in the little white camisole over her unbuttoned jeans, the way her stomach was rounded, how incredibly soft she seemed. She slid the sweatshirt over her head, smiling at the mirror before turning and smiling at Logan.

"Perfect."

He smiled, and she held up one finger. She stepped into her closet while he walked to the window, staring out of it.

"Swear we might get snow."  
"No way."

He smiled again.

"Oh, yeah. They mentioned it might happen, and it is really freakin' cold out there."   
"It's October!"  
"Stranger things have happened."

Sawyer laughed, then stepped from the closet.

"Okay. Check me out."

Logan turned from the window, breath catching in his throat. She had black leggings on underneath the red sweatshirt, which hung to her knees. Her hair was wildly curly, and he forced a smile on his face, nodding.

"You're so cute."

Sawyer rolled her eyes, then turned to the mirror.

"You can't tell?"  
"Nope."

She let out a breath of relief, then nodded.

"We got to go. We'll be late."

* * *

 

They weren't late. They were never late when Logan drove them. Sawyer found a doctor in the next town that accepted her as a patient, and Logan always went with her to the appointments. He held her hand as they squirted the cold gel on her stomach, and he smiled when the baby appeared on the screen.

"Look."

Sawyer smiled, squeezing his hand.

"I see."

The ultrasound tech smiled, typing on the keyboard, moving the wand around.

"Okay, do we want to know?"  
"Can you tell?"

The tech moved around a bit more, then smiled.

"Oh, yeah."

Sawyer blinked widely, then looked up to Logan.

"Do you want to know?"

He smiled, looking down at her.

"Saw, it's not me who—"

She squeezed his hand.

"Do _you_ want to know?"

He stared into her eyes, feeling like the world slid away, leaving only the two of them. He swallowed, then nodded.

"Yeah, I do."

Sawyer blinked, then nodded. She turned to the tech, a smile on her face.

"Yes. We want to know."

Logan squeezed her hand, and the tech moved the wand a little bit more.

"Okay."

They both stared at the screen, and after a moment, the tech laughed.

"You're looking at your son."

Two pairs of eyes widened, and neither one of them bothered to correct the tech before Sawyer propped herself up on her elbows, leaning closer to the screen as Logan leaned closer as well. The tech laughed again.

"Everything looks fine. He's perfectly healthy."

Sawyer had tears in her eyes when Logan leaned over, wrapping an arm around her, kissing her temple. She reached over and grabbed onto his shirt, keeping him close.

"It's a boy, Logan."  
"It's a boy."

The tech left the room, turning the light on as she did. Sawyer laid back down on the exam table, and Logan pushed his hands through his hair, then let out a laugh. Sawyer laid a hand on her belly, making a face when she touched the gel that was still there.

"What?"

Logan grabbed a few paper towels from the sink and handed them to her, leaning against the counter as she cleaned off her belly. He smiled.

"I had a feeling it was a boy."  
"Really?"

He nodded. Sawyer laid both her hands on her stomach after Logan took the paper towels from her and threw them away. He turned and watched her as she slowly moved her hands around, cradling her stomach.

"A little boy."

She raised a hand, and Logan walked over, taking her hand in his. She pulled her hand from his, laying his hand against her belly, and he closed his eyes, smiling widely when he felt a little nudge against his palm.

"Hey, little bud."

Sawyer let out a laugh, then sighed. Logan blinked, still smiling when he helped Sawyer sit up. Her legs dangled off the edge of the table as she pulled her sweatshirt back on. Logan stepped over and took both of her hands, and she smiled up at him.

"I'm almost six months."  
"I know."  
"We should …"

She let out a sigh, and Logan reached over, tucking a curl behind her ear. She smiled at him, speaking softly.

"We should start looking at adoption agencies."

Logan nodded, careful not to let the lance of pain that shot through his heart show on his face.

"Okay."

* * *

 

Quinn leaned against the counter, sipping hot chocolate as she watched Logan yawn at his cereal.

"Long night?"

He looked up and gave her a small smile.

"Not really. I'm just tired lately."

She nodded.

"Everything going okay?"  
"Okay."

Logan set his spoon down, yawning again as he lifted his arms and stretched them out.

"What are you digging for?"

Quinn blinked, light blue eyes going wide, and Logan just laughed. Quinn smiled, setting her cup on the counter.

"You caught me."   
"No kidding."

He laughed again when she swatted his arm. She leaned over the counter.

"I was just wondering about your friend. You seem happier lately, more relaxed than you were before. And after that day when we talked on the phone."

Logan nodded.

"Yeah, it … Everything's good, Mom. It's working out, you know?"

Quinn smiled.

"That's good, honey. That's great."

Logan stood up, yawning once more.

"I've got to go get ready. I've got class."

Quinn nodded, walking back over to her cup. She took in a breath when muscled arms wrapped around her.

"Thank you. For being such a great mom, I mean."

Tears filled her eyes, and she just nodded as she patted his arm. Logan pressed a kiss to her cheek, then walked up the stairs. Quinn held a hand on her nose, blinking back the tears. She sniffled, then picked up her cup, sipping again as Clay walked into the kitchen.

"Hey, gorgeous."

She turned to him and smiled, and he stepped over to her, cupping her face in his hands.

"What is it?"

She let out a watery laugh, tears filling her eyes again.

"Just … Our son. He's really something."

Clay smiled, leaning over to kiss her.

"Of course he is. He takes after his dad. Now, where's the coffee?"

* * *

 

The first snow of the year happened in November. School was called off, and Sawyer spent most of the day wrapped in a blanket in the living room with Ellie, drinking hot cocoa with marshmallows and watching movies. She kept smiling, because the cocoa made the baby roll around in her belly, and she still hadn't grown tired of feeling that. Ellie just sat back and watched her, a curious look on her face, but keeping her questions to herself.

On a Saturday, Ellie found Sawyer in her bed, re-reading her tattered copy of _An Unkindness of Ravens_. Sawyer looked up, giving her sister a smile.

"Hey."

Ellie walked in, slipping her slippers off and climbing under the covers next to Sawyer. Sawyer slid an arm around Ellie's shoulders, then spoke quietly.

"I've been up for a little while, reading. And I can't seem to get off this page."

Ellie moved closer as Sawyer shifted the book. Ellie immediately realized where Sawyer was reading and nodded.

"I know. I have that page torn out and I keep it on my mirror. I can quote it."

Sawyer let out a quiet laugh.

"So can I."

Sawyer sighed before she spoke softly.

_"'At that moment, my triumph was not a state championship, but simple clarity. The realization that we had always been meant for each other and every instinct to the contrary had simply been a denial of the following truth.'"_

Ellie spoke with her then, both of them speaking quietly.

_"'I was now, and would always be, in love with Peyton Sawyer.'"_

Ellie lifted a hand and wiped a tear from her cheek. Sawyer pulled her closer, and they just laid there, not saying anything. After what seemed like the longest time, Sawyer let out a breath, speaking softly.

"El, there's something I—I need to tell you."

Ellie closed her eyes.

"I'm pregnant, Ellie."

Ellie squeezed her eyes shut, rolling over closer to her sister, hugging her. Sawyer closed her eyes as tears slid down her cheeks. After a little while full of silence except for the sniffles the sisters gave, Ellie spoke in a shaky voice.

"It's going to be okay, Saw. We'll get through it." 

* * *

 

Thanksgiving came and went, and Sawyer was too big to fit in any of her clothes. Ellie and Logan snuck around, buying her what they could, but since she refused to wear maternity clothes, their options were limited. Ellie kept trying to convince Sawyer to tell their parents, but any time Sawyer gave that actual thought, she'd panic. She finally decided that when school was out for Christmas, she'd tell. It drove Ellie crazy, imagining how their mother would act when her daughter told her she was not only pregnant but seven months along.

Logan found Sawyer at the Rivercourt one cold morning early in December. She didn't like to climb the bleachers anymore, because she'd seen too many movies, too much TV, and besides that, the story of Brooke and the stepladder and her premature twins.

"Hey, you."

Sawyer looked up and smiled.

"Hey."  
"Aren't you freezing?"

Sawyer shrugged her shoulders.

"Not really. I kind of run hot these days."

Logan smiled, looking at how round Sawyer seemed from the side. Sawyer let out a breath, looking out over the snow surrounding the court.

"I have to tell my mom."

Logan let out a sigh.

"Yeah, you do."  
"I just …"

Sawyer let out a sigh.

"Ellie's been nagging me since I told her. It's not that I want to keep it a secret. Well, I mean… not from Mom. I just … I'm seven months pregnant, Logan. Two more months and he'll be here. And I never told my Mom."  
"Saw, you were three months along when you found out."  
"I know, but those last four months … I should have told her."

Logan sighed.

"What if she's mad at me?"

He looked over to her, and she shook her head.

"I mean, I know she's going to be mad at me, but what if—"  
"Let's not play the game."

She raised an eyebrow at him, and he smiled.

"The 'What If' game. There's no point in it."

He stood up, rubbing his hands together.

"I'm freezing. Can I interest you in continuing this conversation in my nice warm truck?"

Sawyer smiled, reaching up and taking the hand he offered. They took a step and she stopped suddenly. Logan rolled his eyes, a smile on his face, turning back to her.

"What?"

Her eyes went wide and she shook her head.

"Something's … Something's wrong."  
"What is it?"  
"Ow."

She shook her head, making a pain-filled face. Logan stepped closer to her and she doubled over, one hand holding onto her belly.

"Can you talk to me? Sawyer. Hey."

She shook her head, face contorted in pain, no sound coming from her lips. Logan looked over, judged the distance from where they were to his truck.

"Can you walk? Come on, baby. Let me get you to the hospital."

She gasped, and they both looked down, Sawyer went pale, eyes drifting shut as she passed out. Logan easily caught her, looking around as the snow started to fall. He lifted her into his arms, hurrying to the truck, setting her across the backseat, sprinting to the front, throwing his flashers on and driving as quickly as he dared, away from the Rivercourt.

Away from the snow close to his truck, the pure white stained red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a line in the song "Your Guardian Angel" (where the title of this chapter comes from) that really sums up the Sawyer/Logan relationship to me. 
> 
> "I'll be there for you through it all, even if saving you sends me to Heaven."


	18. Tell Me I Was Dreaming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Tell Me I Was Dreaming" by Travis Tritt

Logan stood in the middle of the emergency room entrance, arms suddenly achingly empty. God, when did it get to be so damn cold? He looked down, at the bloodstains on his shirt and choked back—what? Vomit? A sob? He didn't know. He couldn't think. Or breathe. Christ, was she okay?

He was not a clumsy man. He knew that. Hand him a football, and you'd swear he was born for it, with how graceful and downright beautiful he looked. He knew that. That was what this upcoming May was banking on. That some national team had noticed his grace and beauty and effort and dreams and wanted him.

But he felt clumsy now, too-big hands fishing in his shirt pocket for his phone, too-big fingers fumbling across the screen, trying to dial a number. He was shaking. He let out a laugh, quiet and breathless, and somehow managed to press the name he'd been looking for.

_"Hello?"_

Logan broke at the sound of the voice through his speakers. Tears filled his eyes, his throat, and he gasped as he started sobbing.

"Dad, I—I need you. Please."

* * *

 

Clay tore through the doors of the hospital with Ellie on his heels. She'd been at the house with Riley, and when Logan called, Ellie jumped in Clay's truck before he'd even grabbed the keys. He hadn't felt panic like this since … Since the last time he'd been called to this hospital. He stumbled a bit, letting out a gasp.

He shook his head, barreling down the hallway, he and Ellie coming to a halt at the nurses' desk before he heard the choked-back sob and the quiet "Dad." He let out a breath of relief, walking over and pulling Logan into his arms, closing his eyes as he held his son tightly.

"It's all right. I'm here."

Logan clung to him, and after a moment, Clay stepped back. He took a look at his son, at the amount of blood on his shirt, and Logan sighed, pushed a hand through his hair as he sniffled.

"I don't know … I don't know what happened. She was fine. We were just talking, she was fine. She stood up, and she just—there was … Blood everywhere."  
"Sit down."

Logan did, and Clay ran a hand over his chin before sitting beside him.

"Start from the beginning."

Logan closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh.

"Dad, there's … The beginning isn't today."

Clay sat back, blinked twice, then sighed.

"Oh, boy. Tell me everything."

Ellie walked up then, blue eyes too big, face too pale. Logan shifted in his seat, and she let out a shaky breath. No one said anything, and Logan slowly stood up. Ellie finally cleared her throat, speaking softly.

"She, uh …"

Ellie took in a big deep breath, let it out slowly, and tears came to her eyes. She locked eyes with Logan and shook her head. Logan let out a shaking breath, pushing his hands through his hair.

"Damn it. _Goddamn it_."

Tears slid down Ellie's face as Logan turned away, pressing his forehead against the wall, big hands on either side of his head. Clay stepped forward, laying a hand on Ellie's shoulder, and she let out a long, shaky sigh.

"Sawyer was … She, uh …"

Ellie closed her eyes, scrubbing a hand over her face.

"She lost it."  
"Lost what?"

Ellie took in a breath, then looked up at him.

"The baby."

Clay's eyes went wide.

"Wait. What? Are you … Seriously?"

Logan and Ellie both slowly turned to look at him, and Clay blew out a breath.

"Holy shit."

Logan's hand curled into a fist, and Clay walked over, wrapping his hand around his son's. Logan turned back to look at him, and Clay let out a breath, bringing his other hand up to squeeze Logan's shoulder. He led him back to the chairs, and Logan leaned forward, elbows on his knees, putting his face in his hands. Clay covered his mouth with his hand as Ellie wrapped her arms around her stomach, sniffling. After a moment, Ellie walked over, sitting beside Logan. She sniffled, then finally sat back and laid her head against Logan's shoulder. He lifted his head, leaning back and closing his eyes as he wrapped one big arm around her. Clay cleared his throat.

"Did you call your parents?"

She closed her eyes, not moving from her place against Logan's shoulder, and shook her head. Clay sighed and nodded.

"Okay."

He stood up, pulling his phone from his pocket, dialing two phone numbers, one of which was selfishly for himself, as a form of backup.

* * *

 

Quinn got to the hospital in record time. She'd called Peyton, and ended up picking her up on the way. Clay had called Lucas, and it was pure coincidence that he got to the hospital at the same time as Peyton and Quinn.

Peyton was out of the car before it had come to a complete stop. She ran for the doors of the hospital, and Lucas managed to open one before there was a Peyton-sized hole in it. They ran to the nurses' desk, coming to a stop when they saw Ellie and Logan. The kids sat up straighter, exchanging a look, and Logan sighed as he stood to his feet.

"Um … There's something—"

Quinn's gasp made him stop, and he looked down, closing his eyes and sighing when he realized he was still wearing his blood-covered shirt. Logan looked up, freezing when he saw Lucas' face. He was pointing, raising a shaking hand towards Logan's shirt. He started breathing hard, shaking his head. Peyton walked over and laid a hand on his shoulder, and Lucas gasped, bending over and closing his eyes, finally crouching down low as he covered his mouth with a hand.

Clay stepped over and got a scrub top from a nurse, and he ushered Logan into the bathroom. He didn't say a word when Logan stripped the shirt off and stuffed it into the trashcan.

He also kept his mouth shut when Logan kicked the trashcan across the bathroom.

* * *

 

Peyton closed her eyes, trying to tamp down the panic that fluttered all around her. She took in a breath, then opened her eyes, finding Ellie standing in front of her. Peyton laid a hand on Ellie's shoulder.

"Sweetheart. Talk to me. What is going on?"  
"Mom, there's … I don't know how to …"   
"Excuse me."

Peyton turned around, coming face-to-face with a doctor who was pulling his scrub cap off of his head. She blinked, and he nodded.

"Are you Sawyer Scott's family?"

Peyton swallowed, but nodded.

"Yes, I—I'm her mother."

The doctor nodded slowly, letting out a breath.

"I'm Dr. O'Brien. I just got out of surgery with your daughter."  
"Surgery?"

Lucas stood up then, Dr. O'Brien raised an eyebrow, and Peyton let out a sigh, waving a hand towards Lucas.

"My husband."

The doctor nodded, and he let out a sigh.

"Well, your daughter lost a significant amount of blood. We have her receiving a few units of blood to make up for what she lost."

Peyton shook her head, waving her hands.

"Dr.O—O'Brien, please. We don't have any idea as to what's going on here. I just got a call that my daughter was in the hospital. I don't know what for. She wasn't—isn't sick, and I just …"   
"You don't … you don't know?"

Peyton shook her head, and the doctor glanced at Ellie, saw her eyes drift shut, as if she was bracing herself. The doctor nodded, slowly let out a breath.

"Mrs. Scott, I'm afraid your daughter has … suffered a miscarriage."

Peyton went still, not even breathing. She blinked her eyes slowly.

"I'm sorry. Wh—what?"

The doctor nodded as Logan and Clay stepped out of the bathroom.

"It's not technically correct to call it a 'miscarriage' this far into her pregnancy, but I … I just don't have the words. To be honest, we don't know what happened today. My best guess is a sudden placental abruption."

Peyton shook her head.

"No. no, there's no … That's impossible. She … Sawyer's not—"

Peyton blew out a breath, shaking her head again. She looked over in time to see Logan sink into a chair, elbows on his knees as he put his face in his hands. His knuckles were bloody, and Clay laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Quinn sat beside him, gently rubbing his back, eyes wide as she watched Peyton. Peyton closed her eyes, and heard the doctor sigh.

"You didn't know she was pregnant."

Peyton slowly shook her head, and Lucas collapsed into a chair. Ellie took in a shaky breath, and the doctor quietly cleared his throat.

"Well, she seems to be responding well. We had to do an emergency C-section, but we were able to quickly get the bleeding under control."   
"But the baby ... ?"

Peyton and the doctor turned to Ellie, and his face went soft.

"No, I'm sorry. We did everything we could to help him, but …"

Ellie nodded as her face crumpled and tears slid down her cheeks. Peyton covered her mouth with her hand and closed her eyes. Ellie walked back over and sat by Logan. He never lifted his head, but he reached over, taking her hand. After a moment, Peyton blinked her eyes open.

"Can I see my daughter?"

The doctor gave her a gentle smile.

"She's in Recovery right now, and she'll be there for at least another hour. After that, she'll be put into a room, and you can see her then."

Peyton nodded, and the doctor left. She closed her eyes, finally turning around and meeting Quinn's gaze. Peyton shook her head.

"What the hell?"

She gave a quiet laugh, lifting a shaking hand to her mouth. She glanced at Lucas, who rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. She turned back to Quinn, locking eyes with her.

"Did you know?"

Quinn's eyes widened and she shook her head.

"No, I—I had no idea."

Peyton looked to Logan and swallowed. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"But Logan did."

Quinn felt the tremor that went through him, and she looked up, meeting Clay's eyes. Logan dropped his hands, lifting his head. Tear tracks cut through his cheeks, and more tears shimmered in his eyes. He opened his mouth, then shut it, shaking his head.

"Dad, no!"

It happened so fast; one second Logan was sitting in between Quinn and Ellie, the next he was pressed against the wall. Lucas was screaming, punching his face, his abdomen, then holding him up by his shirt.

"She's seven-fucking-teen! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Clay jumped over, grabbing Lucas' arm, trying to pull him off of Logan. Quinn stood up, putting a hand over her heart, praying that Logan would keep his head. He was great at it, at keeping himself on an even keel, staying calm in the face of stress. But if he got angry … He was so big; a long, lean body of pure hard muscle. Quinn reached out a hand, falling back with a gasp when Lucas' fist made contact with Clay's jaw. Ellie jumped to her feet as Clay fell backwards, landing at Quinn's feet. Quinn knelt down as Lucas continued to scream at Logan.

"She's a kid! She's just a kid, and you—what, did you take advantage of her? Get her drunk? You son of a bitch, I swear to God, I'll—"   
"Stop!"

Ellie ran forward, grabbing Lucas' arm as he prepared to hit Logan again.

"Logan didn't have anything to do with it! He's just been helping her! It's not his!"

Lucas went still at that, letting go of Logan's shirt. Logan leaned to the side, spitting blood onto the floor. Ellie held a hand on his back as she led him back to the chairs, grabbing some tissues from the box on the nurses' desk and handing them to Logan. He held the tissues to his nose, moving his jaw around and wincing. Clay stood to his feet, hand going to his jaw as he moved it around. Lucas walked over and sat beside Peyton, putting his head in his hands, knuckles bloody and beginning to bruise. With a sigh, Peyton stood up, walking over to Ellie.

"You knew?"

Ellie looked to the ground, slowly nodding her head. Peyton blinked.

"And you never told me?"

Ellie looked up, blue eyes full of tears.

"It wasn't my secret to tell."  
"Elizabeth Karen Scott, that is something that overrides secret-keeping!"

Ellie put her face in her hands, muffling the sobs she couldn't hold back anymore. Logan stood up, putting an arm around Ellie, leading her over to the chairs and sitting beside her. She leaned into him, shaking her head, and he just kept his arm around her, gently rubbing up and down her arm. Quinn let out a breath, standing to her feet.

"Let's all try and calm down, see if we can't talk this out."

Peyton turned to face Quinn, then turned and walked away. Quinn nodded, biting her teeth together.

"Or not."


	19. Breathe (2 A.M.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Breathe (2 A.M.)" by Anna Nalick

Jude stood outside the café, in the alley behind it. He reached in one pocket of his jeans and took out a packet of cigarettes, and a lighter came from his other pocket. He tapped a cigarette out, cupping his hand around it as he lit it. He took in a breath, inhaling the sharp, acrid taste of the nicotine, feeling the burn in his lungs before he blew out a long stream of smoke.

He knew, okay?

All the bad stuff about the way cigarettes affect the body, how smoking is so bad for you, the adverse effects of nicotine. He knew it all. He'd heard it all. Done a report on it in fourth grade, even.

But his life was shit and he needed something. So, a pack of menthols it was.

He leaned against the building as he smoked, wearing only a hoodie, letting the burn in his lungs warm his body in the cold December air. He stared out over the snow that was falling, adding to the snow that was currently on the ground.

How had they gotten here?

How had life gotten so bad?

Jude had been in the café when the call came in. He got to watch the smile slide from his mother's face a few seconds before she slammed the phone down, grabbing her purse and running out the door. Jude had gotten a text shortly after, from his brother.

Sawyer was in the hospital.

She had nearly died, and the baby she'd carried in secret for seven months actually did.

Davis and Brooke were at the hospital now, leaving Jude to watch the café and his sister. Meg was fine, sitting at a table with an early Christmas present from Owen, trying to learn how to knit on some kind of loom-thing.

And Jude was hiding behind the restaurant, finishing up a cigarette and contemplating the clusterfuck that was currently his life.

He shook his head, dropping the cigarette and rubbing the toe of his shoe on it, putting it out. He put his hands in his pockets and stared out at the snow again.

He couldn't fathom the idea that Sawyer had been seven months pregnant. How had no one noticed? Who was the father? Jude had done the math. It had taken him for-freakin'-ever, but he'd done the math. There was a chance this baby could be Davis'. Be he just couldn't see Sawyer keeping the pregnancy and the baby a secret like that. She had been really mad at Davis, though…

Jude pushed his hands through his hair. He needed a haircut. He wanted another cigarette, but wouldn't let himself pull one out and light it. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out, answering the call.

"Davis, hey. Any news?"

His brother sighed.

_"They're moving her to a room."_  
"That's good, right?"  
_"Yeah, sure."_

Davis was quiet, and Jude spoke softly.

"Dave?"  
_"Yeah."_  
"What's wrong?"

Davis let out a laugh.

_"What isn't wrong right now?"_

Jude closed his eyes, walking in a small circle, and Davis went on.

_"Ellie knew. And Logan, but they didn't tell anyone. Lucas punched Logan. And Clay, when he tried to pull him off of Logan. Peyton's a mess."_  
"How are you, Dave?"

Davis let out another laugh, then went quiet. His voice was thick when he spoke again.

_"Ellie said that they … they didn't know who the father is. Was, I mean."_

Jude squeezed his eyes shut at the hitch in Davis' breathing.

_"I let them swab my cheek and we're doing a paternity test. How awesome is that?"_  
"Davis—"  
_"I can't, Jude. I cannot be the father of this baby. I can't be the father of a dead kid I never even knew about."_

Jude let out a breath when Davis bit back a sob, unable to keep it completely quiet. Jude blinked snowflakes out of his lashes, walking back over to lean against the building.

"Do you need me to come?"  
_"N—no. Someone needs to watch the café."_  
"Fuck the café. Do you need me?"  
_"Mom needs you to—"_  
"Davis. Do _you_ need me?"

The silence that filled the line was all the answer Jude needed.

"I'm on my way. Hang on."

Jude walked into the café, coming to an abrupt stop when he heard Davis' whispered word a second before the dial tone filled his ear.

_"Hurry."_

Jude slid the phone back in his pocket, pulling out a pack of gum and popping a stick of Big Red in his mouth, chewing and letting the cinnamon flavor fill his mouth. He cut off the ovens and the fryers in the kitchen, made sure the coffeepots were off. He flipped the lights off before stepping into the dining area.

He stopped when he saw Owen sitting across from Meg, yarn stretched out between his hands, looped between his fingers. Owen gave him a smile, nodding his head.

"Hey. How's it going, Jude?"

Jude swallowed, pushing a smile on his face.

"Are you busy?"

Owen gestured to his hands, and Jude nodded.

"Could you watch her for a bit?"  
"I'm not a baby, Jude."

He smiled, pulling his coat from the hook near the door.

"I know, squirt. Just … Remember that story Mom told us about Jamie's crazy nanny?"

Meg shivered as Jude looped a scarf around his neck.

"Never mind. Owen can watch me."

Owen and Jude laughed, and at Owen's raised eyebrow, Jude shook his head. He mouthed "later" and pointedly looked at his sister. Owen nodded, and Jude grabbed his keys, flipping the "Yes, We're OPEN" sign to read "Sorry, We're CLOSED" as he walked out the door.

* * *

 

It's not Davis' baby.

That should be a collective sigh of relief from the Baker/Davis family. Instead, it raises a multitude of questions for Davis.

Did Sawyer cheat on him?  
Or did it happen after Davis left?  
Why didn't she tell anyone?

And the biggest question of all:

Whose baby is it?

* * *

 

Logan stood outside the door of the hospital room. It had taken nearly an act of God, but he managed to convince Peyton that it would be better for him to be the one to break the news of the baby to Sawyer. He could go ahead and tell her that everyone knew, then he'd get Peyton and bring her in.

He took in a deep breath, straightened his shoulders, and walked in.

Sawyer looked so small, engulfed by the hospital bed with its rails and buttons and wires leading to various machines on the walls, beeping in a language completely foreign to Logan. He swallowed, then walked over, taking hold of the chair in the room and pulling it closer to the bed. He sat down, reaching over and taking Sawyer's hand.

"Hey, pretty girl. I'm here."

* * *

 

It took three hours, of Logan just sitting there and holding her hand, gently whispering to her, brushing his fingers through her hair, before Sawyer finally started to stir. She gave a quiet moan, which Logan quickly shushed, letting her know he was there and that she was all right. She finally blinked her eyes open, still glazed over from the medicine, seeing Logan's face in front of her, a gentle smile on his lips.

"Hey, sleepyhead."

She gave another moan, lifting a hand to her nose. Logan caught it halfway there, lowered it back to her side.

"You've got oxygen tubes in your nose. The nurse said they'll probably take that out tomorrow."

She shook her head, closing her eyes for a long time before she opened them again.

"I don't … What happened?"

Logan sighed.

"You don't remember?"

Sawyer closed her eyes as she slowly shook her head again. Logan pushed a hand through his hair, tried to straighten it as best he could. He took in a deep breath, then met Sawyer's eyes again.

"It's something bad, isn't it?"

Logan sighed.

"You were at the Rivercourt, remember? I found you there?"

Sawyer leaned back in the bed, eyebrows scrunched up.

"Vaguely? No, I … I don't really remember that."

Logan sighed again, dug his fingers into his leg before he reached out and took her hand. He decided it might be better to just bite the bullet, but Sawyer beat him to it.

"Oh my god."

Logan looked up from their hands, and Sawyer hissed out a breath as she laid a hand on her abdomen.

"The baby."

Blue eyes full of fear and worry flashed to him.

"Logan, where's the baby?"  
"Sawyer—"  
"Where is he? Is he okay?"

Logan gently squeezed her hand, and her eyes, still wide and scared, stayed locked on his.

"Sawyer, there was … A complication."  
"No."

Her voice was barely audible, and Logan swallowed, pushing through.

"They did everything they could—"  
"No."  
"But he … He didn't make it."  
"No."  
"Sawyer, I'm so sorry. I am so, so sorry."

Tears were coursing down her cheeks, and she shook her head, laying it back against the pillows. She gripped his hand, and Logan sniffled, realizing then that he was crying, too. She shook her head, letting out a sob.

"No. No, he's not … He can't be. _Logan_."

Logan stood up, bending over the bed, taking her in his arms as best he could. She put one arm around his neck, using the other hand to cover her mouth as great, gut-wrenching sobs broke from some place deep inside her. Logan cried into her hair as she shook her head, unable to speak, only able to cry.

* * *

 

When the tears finally slowed, Logan leaned back, gently touching Sawyer's face before he sat down again, keeping hold of her hand. She shook her head again, blue eyes looking to him for answers he didn't have. He took in a deep breath, rubbing his eyes with his hand, letting the breath out slowly.

"The doctors aren't sure what happened. One doctor said he thought you had a placental abruption, but …"

He let out a sigh as he shook his head.

"Did you see him?"

Tears came to Logan's eyes again, and he just shook his head again. Sawyer let out a shaky sigh, speaking softly.

"I want to see him."  
"Sawyer—"  
"I need to see my son, Logan."

He met her eyes, saw the steely resolve in the watery blue. He let out a shaky breath of his own and nodded his head.

"I'll see what I can do."

* * *

 

Ellie sat at the end of the hall, with a perfect view of Sawyer's room. She had sat there, sitting still and silent, listening to the heartbroken sobs from her sister, unable to do anything to lessen the pain. She watched now as Logan stepped out of the room, burying his face in his hands for a moment before clenching his fists, letting out a long breath and walking down the hall, the opposite direction from the room. She saw him stop at the nurses' desk, speaking softly to one of the nurses there. She watched the nurse reach out a hand and gently touch his arm, nodding her head before turning away from him.

Ellie thought about standing up, going to him or to Sawyer, but she couldn't get her legs to work. She let out a long breath, glancing down at the jacket she'd pulled onto her lap. She took in a deep breath, reaching into the pocket of her jacket and pulling out her phone.

She ran her fingers over the screen, biting her lip. She unlocked the phone, scrolled through her contacts until she landed on a name. She bit her lip again, glancing up in time to see Logan shaking his head, clenching his fists again. Tears were dripping down his cheeks, and Ellie let out a broken sigh. She touched the name, watched as the phone began calling. She lifted the phone, closing her eyes when the familiar voice resounded through her ear.

"Hi. It's Ellie. … Are you busy?"

Tears filled her eyes, thickened her voice.

"I just really need to talk to you."

She shook her head, letting out another broken breath. '

"No. No, everything is messed up and I … I don't know what to do."

She closed her eyes, covering her eyes with her hand, resting her elbow on the arm of the chair. The voice in her ear was soft, as gentle as she could always remember it being. The tears came out as easily as the story did, and as she spoke, to someone who had always listened for as far back as she could remember, Ellie finally felt a little bit of relief.

* * *

 

Sawyer was staring at the ceiling when the door to her room opened and closed. She glanced over to see Logan standing there, and she watched as he wiped his hands on his pants then looked to her. He gave her a small smile, then pulled the chair beside the bed again. He took in a deep breath, then reached over and took her hand.

"He's seventeen inches long. He weighs two pounds and three and a half ounces."

Tears filled Sawyer's eyes as he spoke. Logan ran his thumb along her knuckles.

"The nurse is bringing him in here for a few minutes."  
"Really?"

Logan nodded, and Sawyer let out a shaky gasp.

"Listen to me."

She nodded.

"He can't stay very long. They have to … There are things they have to do, okay?"

Sawyer nodded again.

"But this is … This might be the only time I get to see him."

Logan nodded, reaching up to gently push her hair behind her ear. Sawyer reached up and put her hand over his, and Logan gently cupped her cheek in his hand. There was a quiet knock on the door, and Sawyer's eyes widened. Logan squeezed her hand.

"It's okay. It's going to be okay. I'm going to be right here, okay?"

Sawyer nodded, and Logan stood up, walking over and opening the door. A nurse walked in, a gentle smile on her face and a tiny bundle in her arms.

"Sawyer?"

Sawyer nodded, and the nurse walked over to her. Logan stood back, watching as the nurse laid the bundle in Sawyer's waiting arms.

"You take all the time you need, okay, sweetheart?"

The nurse gently stroked Sawyer's hair, and she nodded. The nurse nodded back, laying her hand over her heart as she walked out the door. Logan turned from watching the door to Sawyer, just in time to see her face.

He'd never, ever be able to get that image out of his mind. Sawyer, holding the baby she never planned for, but grew to love. The baby she was never meant to mother. The baby that never even drew a breath.

Logan felt his heart break as he watched the first time Sawyer got to see the baby, which was also the last time she'd ever see him. It was sort of poetic, but in the worst possible way. Logan's breath caught in his chest, and he had to lift a hand to his sternum and rub harshly to get his lungs to fill again. Sawyer lifted her head then, tear-soaked blue eyes meeting his.

"He's so beautiful."

Logan nodded, and Sawyer moved one hand, propping her head on it as a sob tore from her chest. Logan was beside the bed before he even realized, gently touching her shoulder. She shook her head, and Logan easily maneuvered her to the side, taking extra special care for the baby. He climbed up in the bed beside her, wrapping an arm around her, and she laid her head on his shoulder, the tears on her cheek soaking his shirt, along with the tears that she couldn't stop crying. Logan tried to blink back tears of his own, but sitting where he was, he got his first view of the baby.

He was beautiful, just like Sawyer had said. He was tiny, so little that Logan felt like a giant. He could almost fit completely in Logan's hand. He looked like a little angel, like he was sleeping peacefully in his mother's arms.

And Logan couldn't stop the tears from falling.

* * *

 

"He's got my nose, I think."

Logan smiled as he gently ran a finger down the baby's nose, before touching Sawyer the same way.

"Oh, he definitely does."

Sawyer smiled. She had her knees drawn up, with her arms resting on them, the baby in her hands. Logan was behind her, letting her lean up against him, and every now and then, his hand would drift up beneath Sawyer's and he'd hold the baby, too. He'd held him when Sawyer couldn't stop crying, until they'd both calmed down enough.

Sawyer had laid the baby on the bed, unwrapping the blankets from around him and taking the socks off of his feet, then the hat off his head. Logan watched as she counted the baby's fingers and toes, gently kissing each one. She'd slipped the socks back on, wrapping him back up in the blanket. She'd slipped the hat back on his head and tucked him against her heart, closing her eyes and just holding him, gently patting his back for the longest time.

Then she'd looked to Logan, and he'd climbed back in the bed with her, wrapping her in his arms, gently laying his massive hand over the tiny baby boy. Sawyer had leaned into him, and that's how they got in the position they were currently in, just staring at their angel.

"You know what I like to think?"

Logan shook his head, gently running his hand down her arm.

"What?"

Sawyer gently looped the baby's tiny fingers around her thumb.

"I like to think your mom's holding him."

Logan swallowed, a smile crossing his face.

"I was thinking that, too."

Sawyer nodded.

"And maybe Aunt Haley, too. And both of my grandmothers. The one who adopted Mom and Ellie, too. Ellie Senior, I guess."  
"They all probably fight over who gets to hold him."

Sawyer let out a quiet laugh.

"And maybe Uncle Nathan and Keith can be there, too. And my Granddad, Larry. Well, Grandpa Dan too, even if I never got to meet him."

Logan tightened his arm around her, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"They're there. All of them, plus a bunch more people. This little guy is surrounded by love."

Sawyer nodded, leaning her head against his shoulder. She closed her eyes, but the tears leaked out anyway.

"That's all I wanted for him."

Logan nodded, kissing her forehead while she cried. He looked at the clock, heart dropping, even as he knew they were running out of time. He cleared his throat, and Sawyer looked up at him. He pushed a smile on his face, completely forcing it, for her.

"What about a name? Handsome little devil like this needs a name."

Sawyer nodded, letting out a long breath. She looked back to the baby, a soft smile crossing her tear-stained face.

"I actually … I'd thought of a couple of names. I was planning on—on giving him up, you know? So I didn't want to—to name him, if it wasn't what … what his parents liked."

Logan gently rubbed her back as she tried to speak through her tears. She took a moment, taking in a few shaky, broken breaths, then spoke again.

"I like Gabriel. But I was thinking they could call him Gabe. And now it … it fits, since he's an angel."

She turned her face back to Logan's shoulder, and he closed his eyes as he rested his cheek on her forehead.

"That's perfect, Saw. Gabe Scott."

She nodded, then spoke softly.

"Gabe Logan Scott."

Logan looked down at her, and she smiled while she shrugged her shoulders.

"I have to. You've been the best …"

Sawyer let out a sob then, and Logan gave a shaky breath as she sat up, picking Gabe up and holding him close to her. Logan wrapped his arms around both of them, pressing his forehead against hers. He moved one hand to cradle the baby, and he spoke through the tears coursing down his face.

"Thank you."

She shook her head, sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. Logan began to gently rub her back, and she gasped out the words.

"I don't … I don't want to—to let him go!"

Logan squeezed his eyes shut, holding her as close as he possibly could. When she'd calmed down just a bit, Logan took in a shaky breath. Sawyer spoke quietly, breaking Logan's heart with each word she whispered.

"Do you think he knows how sorry I am? That I couldn't keep him safe?"  
"Sawyer."

She managed to tear her eyes away from her son, meeting Logan's confused, hurt eyes.

"This was not your fault."  
"All the things I did? How is this not my fault?"  
"This was a freak thing, honey. No one plans on this. It just—it just happened."

She shook her head, looking back down at her tiny baby boy.

"If … If I'd just—"  
"Don't."

Logan leaned over and kissed her temple again.

"We can't go back. And we cannot play the 'What If' game. It'll kill us, Saw."

She nodded, letting out a long breath.

"Plus, Gabe would be pretty pissed if he could hear you talking about his Mom like that."

Sawyer let out a quiet, watery laugh. She brought the baby back to her chest, settling him right over her heart before she leaned back on Logan.

"Let's just sit here for a minute. Just you and me and Gabe."

Logan nodded, wrapping his arms around them both, closing his eyes.

* * *

 

Ellie came in, tears coursing down her cheeks while Sawyer introduced her to Gabriel Logan Scott. She held the baby for just a moment, gently running her finger over his tiny hand, then gave him back to Sawyer, walking out of the room. Peyton even came in for a minute, standing beside Sawyer's bed while Logan stood off to the side, watching. Peyton smiled at the baby, nodded at the name, talking quietly as she ran her hand over Sawyer's hair. Just before she left, she pressed her forehead against Sawyer's, both of their eyes closing as they both cried. She didn't say anything then, and left the room with tears streaming down her face. Logan climbed back in the bed then, not giving a damn if anyone else was to come in and see them.

* * *

 

Sawyer was gently rocking back and forth when a quiet knock sounded at the door. Wide blue eyes shot to Logan, tears immediately filling them as she shook her head.

"No. Logan, _no_."  
"Honey, we talked about this."  
"Not yet. We haven't had enough time with him yet."  
"Saw—"  
"No, please."

She looked down, tears dripping onto Gabe's blanket. She lifted a shaky hand, gently caressing the baby's face.

"I don't want to forget him. The way he looks. I haven't had enough time with him."

Logan sighed, walking over to the bed and kneeling down.

"Baby, forever wouldn't be enough time."  
"Please don't let them take him from me. Not yet."  
"Sawyer, honey. Look at me."

She shook her head, sobbing as she clutched Gabe tighter.

"Baby, look at me."

She let out a shaking breath, tears cascading down her cheeks as she looked to him. He let out a shaky sigh, blinking back tears of his own. He nodded, and she let out a sob. She shook her head, lifting Gabe to her shoulder, gently patting his back as she pressed her cheek to his. Logan sniffled, and Sawyer kissed the baby's cheek. She let out another shaking sigh, then nodded to Logan.

"I want—I want you to … to take him … to the nurse."  
"Honey—"  
"I can't have her take him from me."

She shook her head, closing her eyes as she held Gabe's cheek to her own.

"But if I give him to you … I'll know he was taken care of."

Logan let out a shaking sigh, tears filling his eyes as he watched her. She kissed Gabe's cheek again, then lowered him to her lap, a sad smile crossing her face.

"I love you. I love you so much."

She lifted him again, kissing his forehead, then sighed, handing the baby over. Logan gently cradled the baby in his arms, letting out a broken breath.

"Hey, buddy. I—I love you, too."

He lifted Gabe, closing his eyes as he pressed his lips to the baby's forehead. He opened them again, looking to Sawyer, who had a hand on his arm. She smiled through her tears, nodding to him. Logan stood on shaky legs, walking the short walk to the door, the longest distance he'd ever had to walk. His hand shook as he opened the door, and the compassionate face of the nurse nearly broke him. He nodded, settling the baby in her arms. Just before she turned away, Logan gently cradled the baby's head in his hand, bending to kiss his forehead one last time.

* * *

 

He stood at the door until he couldn't see them anymore. He turned to look at Sawyer, saw her crying nearly hysterically, mouth open in silent screams. He got back to her as quickly as he could, pulling her up from the bed, holding her almost brutally against his chest. She found her voice then, screaming and sobbing into his shoulder. Logan sobbed as he held her, burying his face in her hair.


	20. There You Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "There You Are" by Martina McBride

"Well. I don't know who this guy is, but he is certainly not the man I raised."

Lucas lifted his head from the pillow, swallowing nothing, because his mouth felt like the damn desert. Surely he wasn't hallucinating, but he could have sworn—

"Christ, son. When was the last time you showered?"  
"Mom?"

Lucas rolled over, blinking harshly at the light, eyes widening when he saw his mother standing before him. Karen Roe had her hands on her hips, one eyebrow raised, and even with him being forty-five years old, she still put the fear of God into her son. Lucas lifted a hand to rub at his eyes, trying his hardest to ignore the dull throb in his head.

"What are you doing here?"  
"I could ask you the same question."  
"What the hell is that noise?"

Karen crossed her arms over her chest.

"That would be your baby sister, disposing of every alcoholic beverage in this filthy place. And she's a mini you, Lucas Scott, so even your hiding places are being emptied."

Lucas' mouth fell open and he sat up, wincing at the pressure in his head.

"I'm a grown man. You can't come into my home and—"  
"Oh, come off it. This isn't your home. This is a crappy motel room. Your home is my old one, where your wife and daughters are. You remember them, don't you?"  
"Ma, don't start that."

Karen let out a laugh.

"Oh, Luke. This is going to be fun."

* * *

 

Sawyer winced as she shifted in the bed. She held the pillow against her abdomen, letting out a hiss of a breath. Davis winced right along with her, until she'd settled down. She let out a long breath, opening her eyes to meet his.

"I'm all right, Davis."  
"You sure? I mean, that's a gnarly scar, and you're acting like …"  
"What? Like I was practically gutted, then put back together? 'Cause that's what happens."   
"Remind me never to sign up for that."

She laughed, letting out a whimper at the ache it caused in her stomach. She sighed, then met his eyes again.

"So where was I?"  
"Oh, your surprise visitors."  
"Right. Apparently, during everything with … with Gabe, Ellie really needed someone to talk to, and decided to call Grandma Karen."   
"Lucas' mom?"

Sawyer nodded.

"Gran's always told us we can call her whenever and for whatever, and she's an excellent listener. Great when we need to complain about Mom or Lucas or any angsty teenage things."

Davis smiled, nodding his head.

"Next thing Ellie knows, Gran's hopped on a plane and shows up at the hospital this morning. Just in time to spring me from the joint."

Davis laughed quietly, then spoke up.

"Yeah, and apparently, my mom saw your Aunt Lily and now they're talking about … some girly thing. I honestly zoned out."

Sawyer laughed, holding the pillow to her stomach.

"Aunt Lily's a graphic designer or something. She makes bank and still gets to travel all over the world with Aunt Karen. I don't know why. I'm pretty sure they've been everywhere there is to go. They've been traveling since Aunt Lily was like, born."

Sawyer shook her head, pushing a hand through her curly hair. Davis watched her, then took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Sawyer looked over to him, taking a deep breath of her own.

"Hey, Dave?"

He looked up.

"What's on your mind?"

He smiled, an absolutely forced, fake smile.

"Nothing."  
"Bullshit."

He blinked, and she smiled at him.

"We may not be dating anymore, but I like to think that we're friends."   
"We are friends, Saw."  
"Okay. And because we did date, I know you. Fairly well, might I add."

Davis didn't blush. Okay, maybe a little.

"Therefore, I can tell when something's on your mind."

He let out a sigh, blue eyes looking up to meet hers. Sawyer smiled softly, then reached out and took his hand.

"Whatever you want to ask me, go ahead."  
"Saw—"   
"I mean it. It might be tough, but … Some things have got to change around here."

Davis nodded, taking in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"The baby … Gabe."

She nodded, and he went on.

"He wasn't mine."  
"I know."  
"So whose was he?"

Sawyer swallowed.

"Honestly?"

Davis nodded, and she shook her head, speaking so softly.

"I don't know."

Davis' eyes widened just a bit, but he didn't say anything, didn't offer any judgment. Sawyer was grateful for that, and it gave her the strength to continue.

"I kind of … I don't know."

She shook her head, lifting a hand and pushing it through her hair.

"I was in a really bad place. Everything with Lydia, then you left—"

She lifted her head, blue eyes wide.

"No. Oh, god, no, I don't mean it like it … like it was your fault. Please, Davis, don't take it like that."

He nodded, and she sighed. She shook her head as tears welled up in her eyes.

"Shit."   
"Saw, hey."

She shook her head, and Davis sighed, reaching over and taking her hand. She sniffled, shaking her head again.

"I don't mean to cry. I just … my hormones and everything are so out of whack."

Davis nodded, and Sawyer let out a breath.

"It's not your fault. It's mine."  
"Sawyer—"   
"No, hear me out."

Davis nodded, and she went on.

"When Lydia went away, I blamed myself. And I guess I couldn't cope with the blame I placed on myself? I don't know."

She let out a sigh.

"I couldn't keep it in. Mom sent us to see Jenny, and Jenny suggested I keep a journal, so I did. It helped, for like a week. And then I got invited to one of Amanda Green's parties."   
"Oh, boy."

Sawyer laughed.

"Seriously. And while I was at that party, I got drunk. And for a little while, I didn't have to worry about anything. My problems didn't matter, because I forgot about them. So I went back the next week. By the time school let out, I was the party girl of Tree Hill. And then you told me you were leaving."

She sighed, shaking her head as she looked down at her hands.

"It was easier for me to blame you and to break up with you than it was for me to face my issues. So that's what I did."

She pursed her lips as she fought back tears.

"I shouldn't have said those things to you. I didn't mean any of it."  
"Hey."

She blinked and looked up, and Davis gave her a smile as he took her hand.

"I know you didn't."  
"I said some awful things to you."  
"Well, I shouldn't have just up and left like that."  
"Davis."

He shook his head, and she squeezed his hand.

"Please don't blame yourself. I was spiraling out of control, but it wasn't your fault."  
"I should have seen it, though. I should have been here to—"   
"To what? To save me? You think I would have let you? Hell, Davis. I probably would have figured out some other way to break up with you."

Davis sighed, pushing a hand through his dark hair. Sawyer smiled, and when he looked back at her, she spoke softly.

"I don't blame you. You needed to cope, and the best way you could have done that was by leaving. You did yourself a favor, Davis, trust me."

He nodded, glancing down at their hands.

"And I don't hate you, no matter what I said."

He looked back up at her, smiling.

"Good. Because I need you in my life, Saw."

She blinked back tears.

"I need you, too."

He leaned over, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her as best he could. A knock sounded at the door, and Davis looked over to see Ellie standing there. She smiled at him, then looked at Sawyer.

"Mom said Gran and Aunt Lily are on their way over. How are you feeling?"

Sawyer shrugged.

"Sore. And tired."  
"Well, I think that's my cue to go."

Sawyer smiled, and Davis leaned over to kiss her forehead. They smiled at each other before he walked over to Ellie, wrapping an arm around her.

"Merry Christmas, Saw."

Sawyer smiled.

"You too, Davis. And tell Aunt Brooke from me?"

He nodded, squeezing Ellie's shoulder before walking away. Ellie glanced at the watch on her wrist.

"It's almost time for you to have some more pain medicine."

Sawyer nodded.

"I can tell."

A knock sounded behind Ellie, and the girls turned to see Peyton standing there. She walked into the room with a cup of water and the medicine bottle. She set them down on Sawyer's nightstand, then leaned over to run her hand through Sawyer's bangs.

"How are you feeling?"  
"Lousy, to be honest."

Peyton smiled and nodded. She opened the medicine bottle, doling out two pills, putting them in Sawyer's hand. Sawyer took them with a few sips of water, then settled back against the pillows. Peyton sighed, smiling softly as she continued to brush her fingers through Sawyer's bangs.

"Mom, I'm sorry."   
"Shh."  
"I feel awful about everything, and—"  
"Hush, baby. We can talk about it when you feel better."  
"Do you hate me?"

Peyton closed her eyes lifting a hand to rub at them. After a moment, she opened her eyes, looking down at her daughter with red-rimmed eyes that were quickly filling with tears.

"There is nothing in this world you could ever do to make me hate you. I love you, Sawyer Brooke, with an undying love. Okay?"

Sawyer nodded, tears dripping down her cheeks. Peyton reached over and thumbed the tears away, then squeezed Sawyer's hands.

"I love you forever, okay kid?"

Sawyer smiled. That was something she used to tell her parents when she was little.

"I love you forever, too, Mom."  
"Get some rest."

Sawyer closed her eyes, feeling a sense of peace wash over her when Peyton gently kissed her forehead.

* * *

 

Tree Hill had a white Christmas this year. The ground was covered with a thick blanket of snow, and fat, fluffy flakes fell all day long December twenty-fifth. Jude smiled as he stared out the window, watching the snow fall. Meg had been outside most of the day, running through the snow with the gift that had shocked Jude most of all.

A puppy.

How Brooke Davis managed to get a puppy, keep it a secret from her children, and surprise them with it on Christmas Day was beyond Jude's comprehension. But he wasn't complaining. The dog was tiny, some kind of spaniel mixed with God only knew what else. Brooke said someone had left a box of puppies at the pound, and every one of them had been adopted except for the little guy.

Girl. Little girl puppy.

Jude shook his head, taking another sip of the hot chocolate Brooke had fixed. Christmas tradition and all.

"Jude, look!"

He turned from the window to see Meg sitting on her knees, the puppy in her lap.

"She's the perfect size for this doll sweater!"

Christ, he was one-third owner of a dog that wore clothes.

"Looks great, Meggie."  
"I'm going to make her all kinds of clothes on my new sewing machine."  
"Yeah, remind me to call Dad and 'thank' him for that."

Jude snorted as Davis walked into the kitchen, shaking his head and going for the pot of hot chocolate. They'd already Face-Timed with Julian and Alex and the baby that morning, as soon as Ever had woken up. She was growing too quickly, the boys decided, even though she was only three months old. Jude finished his hot chocolate and moved to set the cup in the sink. Meg ran into the kitchen, the dog still in her arms and a huge smile on her face.

"Kid, she's going to forget how to use her legs if you carry her around everywhere."  
"Leave me alone. We're about to watch the Grinch, and if you ask me, that movie could be about you."   
"Oh, that's it."

Jude started for Meg, who squealed as she ran back into the living room, jumping onto the couch beside Brooke, who was laughing out loud.

"Come be with your family, Jude! It's Christmas!"   
"Yeah, Grinch!"

Jude shook his head, smiling anyway, and started to walk to the living room. He stopped though, when his phone rang. He reached for it, rolling his eyes at Meg and Brooke's simultaneous shouts.

"No phones!"

Jude narrowed his eyes at the unfamiliar number, then glanced at Brooke.

"Please?"

Brooke rolled her eyes, but smiled.

"Make it quick."

Jude slid his finger across the screen to answer the call.

"Hello?"

There was nothing on the other end of the line. No breathing or anything, and if Jude hadn't been forced to sit through endless amounts of horror movies with Davis, he probably wouldn't have been as nervous as he suddenly was.

"Is anybody there? Who is this?"

He heard an intake of breath on the other end of the line, just before his heart stopped.

_"Hey Jude."_

No.

There was no way.

Jude swallowed, and it was useless, since his throat was suddenly dry. He shook his head, finding his voice, scratchy and quiet though it was.

"Lydia?"

After a few heartbeats, she spoke again, just as quietly.

_"Merry Christmas, Jude."_

He laughed. He couldn't help it. Tears filled his eyes, and his smile felt like it would break his face in half.

"Lydia. Oh my god. Baby. Hi. It's so good to hear your voice."  
_"I miss you."_   
"Oh god, baby. I miss you, too."

Jude closed his eyes, clutching the phone close to his ear. Tears dripped down his cheeks, and he didn't know that Brooke and Davis were standing back, watching him, since Davis had been in the kitchen to hear the first part of the conversation.

"Are you … Are you doing okay?"

He could hear her smile, he swore to God.

_"Yeah, I … I'm doing a lot better now."_   
"That's great. I'm so glad."   
_"I really miss you, Jude."_  
"I have missed you every second of every day that you've been gone."

He heard her hitched breath, knew then that she was crying, too.

"Sweetheart?"   
_"Jude, I …"_   
"What? What is it, baby?"

After a quiet moment, she spoke again.

_"I love you."_

He went still, gripping the edge of the counter. His voice sounded strangled when he managed to speak again.

"Say that … Say that again."

She honest-to-God laughed on the other end of the line.

_"Jude Baker, I love you. I have for so long."_

His face screwed up as he choked back the sobs that threatened to break free.

_"It feels so good to say it to you. I used to think I wasn't good enough for you, that you deserved so much better than me. And while that still may be true … I know that the one thing I've always been able to count on has been you."_

She took a shaky breath while he covered his mouth with his hand.

_"You have such a beautiful soul, Jude. You've loved me through so much, and I was never able to tell you how much you meant to me. I still don't know if I can tell you. When I try to put it in words, all I can think of is … I love you."_

Jude took in a ragged breath, swallowing. His voice was thick and rough, the slightest bit hoarse, but he managed to speak.

"I love you too, Lydia. I … I love you, too."

She laughed again, and he closed his eyes, soaking in the sound. After a moment, Lydia let out a sigh.

_"I'm sorry, Jude. I—I need to go."_  
"Okay. If you have to."

She giggled quietly.

_"I do."_

He nodded, swallowing again, letting out a sigh.

"I love you, Lydia."  
_"I love you too."_

He smiled, feeling a lightness come over him.

_"Merry Christmas, Jude."_  
"Merry Christmas, baby."

He heard the click that ended the call, and pulled the phone from his ear. He set it on the counter beside him, then laid his head down on his arms. He felt a soft hand gently rubbing his back, and he moved to press his cheek against his mother's stomach. Brooke gently pushed her hands through his hair, and he let out quiet, gasping sobs. When he had control again, he leaned back, looking up at Brooke, smiling through his tears.

"It was Lydia. Lydia called me, Mom."   
"I heard."   
"She's getting better."

Brooke smiled, tears shimmering in her eyes.

"She … She told me that she loves me."  
"Oh, honey."

Jude shook his head, letting out a laugh. He stood up and wrapped Brooke in his arms, holding her tightly while he smiled, laughing again when he saw the sun peek through the clouds out the window.

* * *

 

Quinn sat on the couch beside Clay, both of them with their eyes closed, feet propped up on the coffee table. Riley and Logan were in similar positions, on the floor and in a chair. Jamie stood near the kitchen, shaking his head as he sipped from a mug.

"Pathetic."

Groans answered him back, and he laughed.

"Why do you all stuff yourselves until you literally can't move?"  
"It's the Holiday Feast."

Jamie rolled his eyes as Clay spoke again.

"It's a rule that you have to make yourself miserable."  
"I didn't get the memo."

Quinn moaned before she spoke.

"It's the Scott in you. Keeps you from fully enjoying the Holiday Feast."  
"Count your blessings, Jame. Ugh."

Jamie laughed again as he glanced over at Logan. Riley made a face as she tried to move, but then went back to her original position.

"We only get to do it twice a year, for Thanksgiving and Christmas."   
"So, what, it's worth it to be this miserable?"

Four hands went into the air, giving him a thumbs-up. Jamie shook his head, walking back into the kitchen and setting his mug in the sink. He looked up as the phone rang, walking back into the living room to see Clay and Quinn, each with one eye open, looking at the phone. Jamie rolled his eyes.

"Oh, don't get up. I'll get it."

Clay gave a quiet grunt.

"You're a good man, Jamie Scott."

Jamie rolled his eyes again, then answered the phone.

"Scott/Evans residence."

The line was quiet, and Jamie pulled the phone away from his ear to make sure the call was connected.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

Just as he was getting ready to sigh and disconnect the call, he heard a quiet voice.

_"Hi, Jamie."_

The smile slid from his face.

"Lydia?"

His voice was quiet, breathless. Quinn and Clay sat up, while Logan glanced over from his spot on the chair and Riley lifted her head to look over the coffee table. Jamie stood frozen, eyes wide, breathing hard.

_"Yeah, James. It's—it's me."_

Jamie waved a hand behind him until he felt the back of a barstool. He sat down, blinking hard.

"You're … Are you okay?"  
_"Yeah, James. I'm good. I just … I wanted to call and tell you all Merry Christmas."_

She let out a laugh.

_"But I'm sure everyone's in their self-induced Holiday Feast comas, right?"_

Jamie nodded as he laughed.

"Yeah, that's … pretty much right on the money."

Tears came to his eyes. It had been so long since he heard her laugh.

_"Jamie, I … I just wanted to tell you that I miss you. And I love you."_

Jamie closed his eyes, taking in a breath.

"I love you too, little sister."  
_"Can I talk to Aunt Quinn real quick?"_

Jamie sniffled and nodded, walking over and handing the phone to Quinn. She looked at it with wide eyes, and Jamie nodded to her, a smile crossing his face despite the tears slipping down his cheeks. Quinn swallowed and lifted the phone to her ear.

"He—hello?"   
_"Merry Christmas, Aunt Quinn."_

Quinn covered her mouth with a hand, closing her eyes. After a second, she let out a shaky breath.

"Oh, Lydia."   
_"I just wanted to call and tell you how much I love you. You've always been the best 'Mom' to me, and I don't think I've ever told you that."_   
"Honey, you don't—"  
_"I know. But I feel like I need to. You never turned your back on me, even when I was so awful to you. Thank you for believing in me and helping me. I—I'm really doing okay now, Aunt Q."_

Quinn nodded, sniffling as tears slid down her cheeks.

"I'm so glad, baby."  
_"I've got to go, but … Will you tell Clay and Logan and Riley that I love them?"_

Quinn nodded again.

"Yeah, I will."   
_"Merry Christmas, Aunt Q."_  
"Merry Christmas, honey."

The line went quiet, and Quinn set the phone on the table beside her end of the couch. She bent over, putting her face in her hands, crying softly while Clay moved closer to her, gently rubbing her back. Riley stood up and walked over, sitting at Quinn's feet. After a few minutes, Quinn lifted her head, glancing at Clay and smiling widely.

"She's okay. She's really okay."

Clay took her in his arms as she let out a laughing sob, and she clutched him close. Riley stood up and walked to Jamie, who wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Quinn closed her eyes as she rested her chin on Clay's shoulder.

"She wanted me to tell you and Logan and Riley how much she loves you."

Clay's arms tightened around her, and Quinn's smile grew. Logan leaned back in his chair, a wide smile on his face. He laced his fingers together, resting his hands on top of his abdomen.

"Merry Christmas, indeed."

* * *

 

Lucas stood at the bottom of the front steps of his house. It was weird, how that house didn't feel like home anymore. He'd fucked up royally, and he knew it, and his family was falling apart around him and he didn't know how to fix it. His mind went back to the verbal ass-kicking he'd received from his mother early that morning, when she woke to find him in that motel instead of the house with Peyton and the girls.

Lucas swallowed, shaking his head. He had no idea what to do to even begin to mend this. Peyton was cold towards him now, and who could blame her? He'd hurt her so deeply. Sawyer hated him; that much was obvious. His only ally was Ellie, and even that was frosty. Lucas shook his head again, putting his hands in his pockets.

He felt his phone vibrate and pulled it out, letting out a sigh when he saw he had a missed call. He slid his finger across the screen and tapped until his voicemail came up. An unfamiliar number had left him a message, and he groaned. Another publisher, angling for a new book? He pushed a hand through his hair, then touched the message, holding the phone to his ear.

_"Hey, Uncle Luke. It's—it's Lydia. I just … I just wanted to call and tell you that I miss you. I've got so much more that I want to say to you, but my shrink's trying to get me off the phone. Just know that you're the best uncle that I could have ever asked for, and I'm sorry that I haven't treated you like it lately. I'll see you soon, okay? I … I love you. Merry Christmas."_

The phone fell from Lucas' hand as the voicemail ended. He'd come to sit on the steps as soon as he heard the sweet voice. He ran a hand over his mouth, over the stubble on his chin and cheeks, shaking his head. He grabbed his phone, wiping off the snow, playing the message over and over again.

Finally, when it felt like hours had gone by, Lucas stood up. He brushed the snow off of his pants, took in a deep breath and walked up the steps. He stood at the door for a moment, then lifted a hand. He laid it against the door, closing his eyes. He blinked his eyes open, then knocked.

The door opened, and there was Peyton. Lucas looked up to see the same look on her face that he'd seen when Dan had stopped by to meet and hold new baby Sawyer for the first—and only—time. She was wary, guarded, and she raised one eyebrow. Lucas gave her a crooked smile, then cleared his throat.

"Could I come in?"


	21. For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "For You" by James Otto

When she was younger, Sawyer didn't understand what her parents meant when they said that "time flies." Time drags for a kid, because they spend most of their time wishing. Wishing to be older, wishing it was their birthday, wishing it was Christmas. It wasn't until February came that Sawyer realized January had flown by. And, she realized, the reason she'd missed it was because she was wishing.

Wishing she could go back in time.

Back to December, where maybe she could figure out something was wrong before it was too late. Back months earlier, where she could tell her mother and let her help, give her advice. Back even earlier, when she could choose a different path than the self-destructive one she'd gone down.

Back a year ago, to see what she hadn't before, to help Lydia before it was too late.

Sawyer pushed a hand through her hair, pulling her scarf tighter around her neck. The cold hadn't really let up on Tree Hill, but the snow had all but disappeared. There were a few flurries on the radar for Valentine's Day, but no one was excited about it anymore. They were all tired of snow, tired of ice, tired of the cold.

Sawyer stepped into the high school, letting out a breath as the warmth seemed to soak into her bones. She ignored the looks from the other students, rolling her eyes at the prom poster she saw hanging on the wall.

Last year, she'd been so excited for prom. This year, prom was the furthest thing from her mind.

She grabbed her books and went to class. She took notes, aced a test, and at lunch, she sat with Davis and Jude. They talked some, until Davis and Jude started discussing … something Sawyer didn't even pay attention to. She let her mind drift as she ate her lunch, not really tasting it.

When school was over, she went home. She did what little homework she had, then walked down the hall, knocking softly on her sister's door. Ellie smiled when Sawyer pushed the door open just far enough to poke her head in.

"Yay! Come save me from this Wuthering Heights crap."

Sawyer laughed, then walked over and plopped down on Ellie's bed, snuggling up next to her sister, putting her head in Ellie's lap. Ellie smiled, gently picking through Sawyer's hair, untangling one curl at a time.

"Bad day?"

Sawyer made a noncommittal noise, and Ellie smiled.

"Just another boring day at Tree Hill High?"  
"Pretty much."

Ellie nodded, going quiet as she continued her path through Sawyer's hair. Sawyer sighed, and Ellie smiled, but stayed quiet. After a minute, Sawyer let out a sigh.

"I feel like … Like I'm in a rut or something."  
"Well—"   
"No, it's like …"

Sawyer sat up, shaking her head once, blonde curls bouncing around her head.

"Everyone knows. This town is so damn small, everyone knows everyone's business. So they give me these looks. Either, 'that's her, the poor thing who had the kid that died' or 'there's that slut who got pregnant and lost it.'"  
"Saw."  
"You don't see it? It's not just at school, El. It's all over town."

Ellie pursed her lips. She had noticed the looks, but they literally hadn't been anywhere in town in weeks. Sawyer didn't feel like going anywhere, so she stayed home. It's not like she had any friends that she wanted to spend time with. Of the only true friends she had, she'd learned, one was in a rehab facility a state over and the other was her sister. Well, and the Baker boys, of course.

Sawyer shook her head, and Ellie sighed.

"Saw, the looks are to be expected. People are going to talk. They'll always talk. And they don't know what to say to you. So, instead of saying anything, they just stare and think that's better."

Sawyer sighed, reaching under her hair and scratching at her scalp.

"I just … I don't know what to do, El."

Ellie sighed, shaking her head.

"I don't know what to tell you to do."

Sawyer smiled, laughing quietly as she shook her head.

"Well, aren't we a pair?"

Ellie laughed, and they both looked over as a knock sounded on Ellie's door. Karen smiled when she saw them, and leaned up against the door frame.

"Dinner will be ready within the hour."

Sawyer nodded, and Karen walked over, laying her hand atop Sawyer's hair.

"Everything okay?"

Sawyer sighed, standing up and forcing herself to smile.

"I'm fine, Gran. I'll go wash up."

She turned and left the room, and Ellie let out a sigh when she did. Karen met Ellie's eyes, and she shrugged. Karen sighed, then nodded, squeezing Ellie's shoulder before she turned and walked from the room.

* * *

 

Dinner was, as it had grown to be lately, a quiet affair. Sawyer hadn't forgiven Lucas yet, but things weren't quite as frosty between them. Peyton was still trying to figure out everything, and Karen and Ellie mostly sat back and watched. Lily was in Puerto Rico with Brooke's company, on her first modeling shoot.

When the quiet got to be nearly deafening, Karen set her fork down, moved her napkin to dab at her lips, then laid it on the table. She cleared her throat, causing everyone to look over to her, and she smiled.

"I have a proposition."

Ellie and Sawyer exchanged an eyebrow-lifting glance, and Karen smiled again.

"We all know I'm not planning on hanging around Tree Hill forever. And let's not waste time here, so, I was thinking that when I leave in the next few days, Sawyer comes with me."

Sawyer's mouth fell open. Peyton let out a laugh at the same time that Lucas shook his head.

"Mom, no. She's got school."  
"And, what? Lily had to fend for herself? Andy and I homeschooled her, and look at her now. We could do the same for Sawyer for half a year."   
"Mom, you're … No."

Sawyer looked down at her plate, absently pushing peas around on her plate. Ellie took a sip of her water, then shrugged her shoulders as she poked at the chicken on her plate.

"I think it would be good."  
"Well, it's a good thing we don't rely on you for parenting advice."

Peyton let out an exasperated sigh as she raised a hand to Lucas.

"Let her speak."

Ellie blinked, blue eyes wide for just a moment before she looked to her sister. Sawyer was staring at her, and Ellie sighed again.

"I just …"

She looked down at her plate, then over to her mother.

"We could all use a break, you know? A lot has gone on, and everyone knows about it, and they talk and look and … She could use some distance from this place, I think."

Sawyer blinked, looking down at her plate as she swallowed, trying to fight back the tears that were suddenly in her eyes. Lucas let out a laugh, shaking his head.

"She's in school, and she's a junior. I mean, she's got exams to take and college prep stuff to do, and cheerleading stuff is going to start up soon, right?"  
"I don't think I'm going to try out this year."

The table went quiet, and Sawyer cleared her throat, not looking up from her plate. Peyton spoke quietly, and Sawyer never looked up.

"But honey … I thought you were going to be captain. You've been wanting that for so long."

Sawyer let out a quiet laugh, then sniffled.

"I don't know what I want anymore."

She set her fork down, then put her head in her hands. Ellie closed her eyes, and Karen glanced over to Lucas, who was staring at his plate, then Peyton, who wouldn't look away from her daughter. It was quiet for a minute, until Peyton sniffled herself and looked to Karen.

"You'd take care of her, right? And have her back before school starts back in September?"

Karen smiled, and Lucas let out a laugh.

"You can't be serious!"  
"Look at her, Luke!"

Sawyer blinked, lifting her tear-soaked eyes to see Peyton shaking her head at Lucas.

"This entire year has been absolute shit. You know it as well as I do. She is hurting and she needs something. Something new."  
"So you're going to let her drop out of school and traipse around the world with my mother?"  
"She's not dropping out!"

Karen and Peyton spoke at the same time, and Ellie bit her lips to hide her smile. Karen shook her head.

"You know how important education is to me. You think I'd let my granddaughter drop out of high school? Absolutely not!"

Sawyer looked over to Ellie, who gave her a wide smile, reaching over and taking her hand. Sawyer gave her back a watery smile, and Peyton cleared her throat. Sawyer looked over to her, and Peyton let out a shaky breath.

"We are not okay. Not by a long shot. But I can't watch you like this anymore. And I can't …"

Her voice trailed off, and Sawyer's heart dropped when she thought of Lydia. Peyton was afraid Sawyer might … ? Sawyer let out a shaky breath, and Peyton nodded.

"I think it would be good for you. Take a break from this place, recharge your batteries before school starts back."

Sawyer couldn't breathe. This was exactly what she needed, and she couldn't believe it was actually happening.

"Luke?"

Sawyer glanced over, watching as her father lifted his eyes to his mother. Karen raised an eyebrow, and Lucas let out a laugh.

"Does it matter what I think? You all seem to have this figured out."   
"Luke—"   
"Take her. You two have a big time."  
"Lucas—"

Lucas took his plate and set it in the sink before he walked out of the house, letting the door close hard behind him. Sawyer stared at her plate, then pushed her chair back, walking out of the house as her mother called after her.

* * *

 

"Hey!"

Lucas stopped at the end of the driveway, turning around to see Sawyer walking down the front steps. He sighed, then shook his head.

"Go back inside, Sawyer."  
"No."

Lucas turned to face her, blinking his eyes.

"Excuse me?"   
"You don't have any right to be pitching this fit, _Lucas_."

He blinked, shaking his head.

"You don't speak to me like that. I'm your father."  
"Oh, now you want to play Daddy?"

Sawyer shook her head, tears filling her eyes.

"You walked out on us. You did the one thing you promised me you'd never do."   
"Sawyer—"  
"I get that things were bad, but it was bad for all of us, Dad. Not just you. I needed you, and you buried yourself in those bottles, and then you left me."

Sawyer shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. Lucas' blood felt like ice in his veins, and she bit back a sob.

"You don't get to choose when to be a parent, to only be part of this family when things are good. Either stick around or go. I don't care what you do, but it's not fair to Mom or Ellie for you to string them along like this."  
"Sawyer—"   
"Do us all a favor and make up your damn mind, will you?"

She turned and walked back into the house, and Lucas stood in the driveway, unable to move, until the porch light came on and he found his feet walking away.

* * *

 

Jude walked into the kitchen, rolling his shoulders and letting out a breath. He looked up and saw Meg sitting at the counter, the dog sleeping on the floor at her feet. She wrinkled her nose.

"You stink."   
"I was working out and I'm sweating, genius."

Meg rolled her eyes and Jude shook his head as he laughed, walking to the refrigerator and grabbing a bottle of water. He twisted the top off and drained half of the bottle, lifting it to his forehead and letting out a sigh. He blinked open his eyes, looking over to see Meg looking at him. He gave her a smile, then glanced around.

"Is Davis home?"

Meg shook her head.

"He came in a little while ago, but the phone rang, so he left."  
"Who was on the phone?"

Meg shrugged her shoulders, going back to the worksheet she had in front of her. Jude leaned over the counter, making a face when he noticed the math problems.

"Good luck with that, by the way."

Meg made a face at him, and Jude walked out the back door, coming to a stop when he saw the two people on the swings.

"Hey."

Davis and Sawyer glanced back at him, smiling. Jude walked over, scoping out the ground, then took a seat on the grass in front of them. He nodded at his brother.

"Meg thinks you're not here."

Davis rolled his eyes.

"When has she ever been here by herself?"

Jude held up his hands, smiling.

"I'm just the messenger, man."

Sawyer smiled, nudging Jude's knee with the toe of her sneaker when she slowly drifted close to him on her swing. He smiled, and Davis let out a sigh.

"Shit's still going down, Jude."

Jude let out a sigh of his own, then nodded.

"Of course it is."

He dragged his hand down his face, then looked to Sawyer. She took in a deep breath, then spoke quietly.

"I got into a fight with my dad last night."

Jude didn't say anything, and she went on.

"Gran wants to take me away from here. She wants me to travel with her, like Aunt Lily's always done. Gran and Andy will teach me whatever I need to stay caught up with school, and I'll be back by September, when school starts back."

Jude nodded, and Sawyer sighed.

"But my dad … He doesn't want me to go. I don't know why not. Mom thinks it's a good idea, for me to get away from … everything for a while."

Davis nodded at that, and Jude looked to him, then back to Sawyer. She pushed a hand through her hair.

"Dad walked out, and I ran after him. I told him that he didn't have any right to throw a fit, and to make his damn mind up whether he wants to go or stay. And he didn't come home last night, so…"

Jude sighed, reaching out and catching Sawyer's foot as she drifted back to him.

"I'm sorry."

Sawyer nodded, then shrugged her shoulders.

"Well, Mom and Gran stayed up super late talking, and when Ellie and I got up this morning, they said that this week is my last at school. Gran and I are flying to meet Andy in London on Sunday."

Jude's eyes went wide, and he blinked.

"Wow."

Sawyer smiled and nodded.

"I know. Pretty cool, right?"

He smiled and nodded, glancing over at Davis, seeing the soft, genuine smile on his face. Jude let out a breath, bringing his eyes back to Sawyer.

"Well, I'm happy for you. This will be good, right?"

She nodded.

"I need to get away. Everyone thinks it'll do good, so…"

The Baker boys nodded, and Davis leaned over, nudging Sawyer with his shoulder.

"We'll miss you around here, Blondie."

Sawyer smiled, looking down at her hands in her lap.

"Watch out for Ellie for me?"  
"Like you even have to ask."

Sawyer let out a laugh, lifting her head.

"I'm kind of making my rounds in goodbyes, so…"

Jude nodded, getting to his feet as Sawyer stood up. He held his arms open and she stepped into them, squeezing him tightly.

"Send me postcards, all right?"

Sawyer nodded.

"I will."

Jude put his hands in his pockets, walking slowly towards the house as Davis embraced Sawyer, deliberately giving them a bit of alone time. He looked up when Sawyer walked by him again, laying a hand on his shoulder as she walked into the house. Jude glanced back, seeing Davis standing near the edge of the yard. He walked over, and Davis smiled when he looked over his shoulder. Jude clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"You good?"

Davis nodded.

"We're okay now. Sawyer and me, I mean. Sawyer and I?"

Jude smiled.

"Sawyer and I."

Davis pursed his lips as he nodded again.

"We're practically grown-ups, Jude."  
"That's scary as hell."

Davis laughed.

"Come on. Grown-ups have to make sure their little sister is thoroughly annoyed at all times."

Jude laughed, but followed his brother back into the house.

* * *

 

Sawyer bit her lip as she looked up at the big house. She hadn't been here in nearly a year, and she tried not to notice her hand shaking as she knocked on the door. She turned back, pulling her sweater a little tighter around her, and the door opened.

"Sawyer, hey!"

Sawyer turned back and smiled at Quinn, leaning in for a hug.

"Hi. Is Logan home?"   
"Just barely. Brooke somehow roped him into some fitting or modeling thing or something. Oh, but I don't think I was supposed to say anything. Oops."

Sawyer laughed, and Quinn stepped back.

"Come in and I'll grab him."

Sawyer's mouth went dry at the thought of going inside. She pushed a smile on her face and shook her head.

"I'll just wait out here, if that's okay. I could use the fresh air."

Quinn's smile went soft, and understanding filled her eyes.

"Of course it's okay. Let me grab Logan."

Quinn left the door open, something Sawyer thought was extremely kind, and an involuntary smile crossed her face when she saw the big hulk of a guy jogging her way.

"Hey, pretty girl."

Sawyer smiled, closing her eyes when Logan wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close to him. He seemed to sense that she needed it, so he just held her for a little while. She finally let out a sigh, speaking softly.

"Are you busy right now?"

Logan smiled.

"Nah. What's up?"  
"Can you take a walk with me?"

Logan nodded, glancing back at Quinn, who immediately looked away, staring up at the ceiling. Logan shook his head, pulling the door shut behind him, walking beside Sawyer as they made their way down the driveway. They didn't say anything for a while, until Logan cleared his throat.

"Saw?"

She glanced up at him, and he smiled.

"What's going on?"

She smiled, stepping closer to him, and he automatically looped his arm around her. She took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"Logan, I … I'm leaving."

He stopped abruptly, so much so that she stepped right out from under his arm, then stopped, turning back to look at him. He shook his head.

"What?"

Sawyer sighed, pushing a hand through her hair.

"Mom and Gran and I were talking, and we … well, Gran offered to bring me along on her travels. Mom thought it would be a good idea, and—"   
"You're leaving?"

She nodded.

"We're flying to London on Sunday."

Logan blinked, glancing away from her and swallowing hard.

"London."

Sawyer nodded, glancing down before bringing her eyes back to him.

"Logan?"

He shook his head, taking a few steps away from her. She watched him, as he came to a stop and turned back to her.

"Sawyer—"  
"I can't breathe here, Logan. I keep thinking of Gabe, and if I'm not thinking of him, I'm thinking of Lydia. I can't deal one more second with my father, and I just … I need to breathe."

Logan closed his eyes, setting his hands on his hips. He coughed once, then shook his head.

"Why do I feel like this is a different kind of goodbye?"

Sawyer bit the inside of her lip, glancing down at her shoes. Logan nodded, letting out a breath.

"Because it is. Shit."

Sawyer shook her head.

"Logan, listen. I—"  
"Please, for the love of God, don't give me the 'you've been such a good friend' speech. Not you."

Sawyer blinked, and he dragged a hand over his face. He shook his head, walking away from her and setting his hands on his hips. He pushed his hands through his hair before he turned back to face her, and in the split-second before the words came out of his mouth, Sawyer knew exactly what he was going to say.

It should scare her. Or maybe she would burst into laughter, shaking her head and telling him he was crazy. She could shake it off, pretend not to hear him. But … It wasn't scary. It wasn't terrifying, like she thought.

"I love you, Sawyer."

She knew he did. And the thing was …

"I love you, too."

Logan blinked, blue eyes gone wide. To say that was the last thing he expected her to say … Well, that would be an understatement. Sawyer swallowed, and Logan closed the distance between them, taking Sawyer's face in his big, warm hands, and kissing her.

Logan's hands slid from her face, wrapping around her waist and pulling her close to him. She went up on her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck, tears slipping from her eyes as the kiss went on and on. It could just keep going on, in Sawyer's opinion. Logan's hands flexed on her hips and she took in a hitched breath, holding onto him as she settled back on her feet, her lips slipping from his as she rested her forehead against that wide chest, feeling his hand between her shoulder blades as her tears soaked his shirt.

"Oh, Sawyer…"

She shook her head, pulling him closer, holding on tighter.

"You have been … so good to me. I could never even … begin to repay you for—"  
"Hush."

His lips covered hers again, effectively shutting her up. Her hands slid up to his muscled arms, sliding down to his hips, and he sucked in a breath when he felt small, cool hands against his overheated skin.

"Sawyer—"   
"Shh."

Logan squeezed his eyes shut as her lips pressed against the stubble on his cheek, then down his jaw. His hand came up, drifting up one of her arms, one big hand resting on the back of her head. She gasped quietly as he lifted her up, turning her and pressing her back against a tree.

"Logan—"   
"Listen to me."

He shook his head, leaning forward and kissing her lips again. He pulled back, blowing out a breath.

"Stay with me. I can take care of you. We can—we—"

Logan's eyes went wide.

"We could get married."

Sawyer's mouth fell open as she stared at him, and Logan finally brought his eyes to hers. He nodded, a smile crossing his face.

"We could. Sawyer Brooke Scott, you could marry me, and we—"  
"Logan, I'm seventeen years old."   
"So? It worked for Nathan and Haley."

A laugh bubbled out of Sawyer's throat.

"I'd have to have my parent's permission. I'm not exactly speaking to my father, but there is no chance in hell Peyton Sawyer-Scott would let her daughter get married this young."  
"Sawyer—"  
"I love you, Logan. I really, truly do, but we cannot get married."

He stared at the ground, and Sawyer put her hands on his face, lifting it until he looked at her. He took in a deep breath, clenching his jaw.

"So we wait until you're eighteen."  
"Logan."  
"I could take care of you."

She leaned forward, pulling his head back down until their foreheads rested together.

"I know you would. And I wish I was older, because this would be so much easier."  
"Is it because I'm so much older than you?"   
"Six years is not 'so much,' Logan. But … Yeah. I think that would be a factor."

Sawyer pulled back, and Logan sighed, letting her go and stepping away from the tree. He walked to another, still close by, and Sawyer watched as he settled a shaking hand on the tree, hanging his head.

"Don't go."

Sawyer blinked, and after a couple of minutes, he lifted his head, speaking softly, but not looking at her.

"My mom died when I was a baby. It was sudden, literally out of nowhere. She was talking to my dad one minute, and she was dead the next."

Logan shook his head.

"'Traumatic' isn't a good enough word. 'Devastated' can't even touch it."

Logan swallowed, glancing back, letting Sawyer see his profile, but still not looking at her.

"From what the psychiatrist and my grandparents told me, even what Dad told me, he had such a hard time dealing with my mom's death that his mind just … I don't know. Blocked me out somehow."   
"What?"

Logan sighed.

"I don't know how to explain it. I guess I … Maybe I was too much of a reminder of my mom. Maybe he couldn't look at me without seeing her, and maybe that hurt too much."

Logan swallowed again.

"But my father just walked away, and he didn't remember me until I was six years old."

He turned around then, to look at her, and saw the shock on her face. He smiled sadly at her.

"I've forgiven him. We had a tough go when I was little, because I was so scared he'd forget me again. Especially when Riley was born. But he promised he'd be there for me, and he always has been. I tried to push him away when I was a teenager, but he saw what I was doing and wouldn't let me."

He swallowed again, deep voice shaking a bit.

"But I … I've always held on to that fear that I was … forgettable. That I'd do something to make someone walk away again and forget about me."  
"Logan, I could never—"   
"Don't."

He shook his head, lifting a hand to rub at his mouth. He took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly and shakily.

"Don't tell me you could never forget me. That's what parents tell their kids and …"

He sighed, linking his hands together behind his head. He paced for a moment, then turned to look at her.

"I have been there for you through all your shit. And I asked for nothing in return. You made me fall in love with you, and I stood by you through it all."

He held his hands out now, taking in a breath and letting it out slowly.

"But I'm asking now. Don't leave me. Stay here. Stay here with me, and let me help you. We can—we can get through this, Sawyer. We can get through anything. Just … Just let me."

Tears shimmered in her blue eyes, and he walked over to her, kissing her once before closing his eyes and resting his forehead on hers again. She let out a sob, and he ran his hands up and down her arms.

"Stay with me. Stay with me, and let me love you. I love you. God, Sawyer, I love you so much."

She shook her head, and he let out a quiet laugh.

"You're so beautiful. So perfect."  
"Logan—"   
"Shh."

He lifted his head, kissing her lips gently. She moved from him, resting her head on his shoulder, and he rubbed her back, holding her close.

"I just … Maybe I don't have any right to say these things, but I've never asked you for anything."   
"I know you haven't. You've been so good to me, and I … I don't deserve it."

Logan let out a laugh.

"Oh, baby. You deserve everything."

She looked up at him, and he smiled as he leaned to press his lips to hers. Her hand came up to rest against his cheek, and Logan smiled.

"Meet me at the Rivercourt in the morning."  
"And what?"

Logan shook his head, a wide smile on his face.

"We'll figure it out then."

Sawyer laughed, and Logan lifted her up, twirling slowly before putting her back down.

"I love you, Sawyer Brooke Scott."

She smiled, moving to put her hands on either side of his face.

"You're everything, Logan Evans. Absolutely everything."

He grinned as widely as she was, leaning down to capture her lips in a long, slow kiss.

* * *

 

Logan sat on the bleachers at the Rivercourt, wearing a thin hoodie to ward off the morning chill. He watched the sun come up over the river, deliberately not looking at his phone. It had vibrated once, but he'd ignored it, slipping his hands into the kangaroo pouch of the hoodie and watching the river.

He'd walked from the bottom of the bleachers up to the top, and had turned around backwards, mainly to keep from driving himself insane. After what felt like an eternity, he heard a car pulling up behind him, and he smiled, closing his eyes.

He knew she'd come.

He glanced over his shoulder, letting out a laugh when he recognized Sawyer's car. He slowly turned around, rubbing his hands together, listening as the engine was killed. A few moments passed by before the door opened, and he watched as she unfolded herself from the driver's seat, standing beside the car, resting her chin on the door. Logan blinked.

"Ellie?"

Ellie shut the door behind her, crossing her arms as she walked across the court and up the bleachers. Logan blinked hard, swallowing and looking down at his feet. Ellie sat next to him, glancing back at the river once. She took in a deep breath.

"The plane left before the sun came up. We had to drive Sawyer and Gran there around four."

Logan nodded slowly, and Ellie reached into her pocket. She tapped an envelope against her palm, then handed it to him.

"She wanted me to give you this."

Logan took the envelope with a shaky hand, and Ellie sighed, standing to her feet, slipping her hands into the pockets of her jacket.

"If it means anything … She cried the entire time she boarded the plane. Through security and customs and everything."

Logan nodded.

"I'm sorry."

He closed his eyes, listening to Ellie's footsteps as she walked down the bleachers, listening to the car start up and drive off. When he was alone again, he blinked his eyes open, staring down at the envelope in his hand, his name on the front in Sawyer's handwriting. He wanted to rip it up. He wanted to burn the damn thing, or better yet, to send it back to her, unopened and unread.

But he knew he couldn't.

He took in a deep breath, turning around and staring at the river, tapping the envelope against his palm. He sighed, squinting at the sun, then slowly dragged his finger under the envelope's seal, ignoring the paper cut that sliced his fingertip. He pulled the pages out, unfolding them with the utmost care, feeling his heart trip at the flowing script.

_Dear Logan,_

_I am so sorry._

_I don't know what else to say, other than that. I know you're sitting on the bleachers, waiting on me, and it's breaking my heart not to be there with you. I wish I had enough courage to be there. I wish I had the guts to blow off the plans I'd already made, just to sit and let you hold me in your arms. I felt so safe there, in all the times you held me close to you._

_But I'm not that strong. Maybe I'm running away from my problems. I really feel like I am, but I don't know what else to do. Tree Hill is smothering me right now. It's too much, and I just need a chance to breathe. You understand that, right? That I can't breathe in that town?_

_It's not you. It's never been you. You've been nothing but incredible to me. From the moment you rescued me from that party, from myself, you've been a rock. I had nothing else to depend on this past year, and you stepped up from nowhere. I mean, I know we've always been friends, but honestly, we were more like acquaintances. Our sisters were friends, and you were older than I was, and I was always with Lydia. Our circles never crossed until now._

_I love you, Logan. I wish I was strong enough to prove that to you. I wish I could laugh with you and go with you and not care about what anyone says or thinks. But I'm not. I'm too worried about what people will say, and how they will talk, and it's … You deserve more than that._

_You told me last night that I deserve everything. But that's not true, Logan._ I'm _not the one who deserves everything._ You _are. You beautiful soul, you gentle giant, you deserve the world and everything it has to offer. And I am supremely confident that does not include me. You deserve some beautiful model, some tabloid darling to hang off your arm, instead of some fucked-up teenage mother from Nowhere, North Carolina._

_I had to write you this letter, to tell you everything that I couldn't say to you in person. You wouldn't let me say it yesterday, but you are the best thing that could have happened to me. You showed up right when I needed you, taking the burden from me, shouldering the weight that I was too weak to carry. I want to thank you for that, but "thank you" seems like … so not enough. You held my hand through the hardest time in my life. You kept my secret. You took care of me. And you loved my son._

_That's … it hurts for me to think about it, but at the same time, I know how lucky he was. How lucky we both were, to have you care that much about us. You dealt with some hard stuff, Logan, and you never once complained, or asked me for anything in return._

_Until you asked for the one thing I can't give you._

_I wish I could. God, I wish I could. I wish it could be different. I wish I were older, and I could just follow you wherever you went. You've got such a bright future, and don't laugh at me for saying that. It's the truth, and I … I wish I could be a part of it._

_Please don't sit home and pine for me. Don't wait for me, okay? I know you would, if I asked, and I cannot bear the thought of that. Go. Do what you need to do, what you want to do, and I'll be happy for you. That's all I really want, Logan. For you to be happy, even if ... even if I can't be beside you to see it happen._

_I love you._

_Sawyer_

Logan hung his head, holding the pages in his hands. He read the letter twice, then folded the pages back up, slipping them back into the envelope. He turned it over, fingers tracing his name on the envelope. He took in a deep breath, lifting his head to stare out at the river. He blinked twice, then stood to his feet, walking down to his truck, driving away without looking back.

* * *

 

Quinn turned from the stove, blinking harshly when her son stood before her.

"Goodness. You scared me."

He didn't say anything, and Quinn set the spoon aside, reaching over and flipping off the stove.

"What is it? Logan, what's wrong?"

He tossed an envelope onto the counter, letting out a breath. After a long minute, he spoke.

"Did Dad tell you who called yesterday?"

Quinn nodded.

"Yeah, he did. They, uh … That offer was …"

She let out a low whistle, and Logan nodded. He turned then, facing her, determination in his dark eyes.

"I'm taking it."  
"What?"

Quinn blinked, and Logan nodded again.

"I'm telling Dad to call them as soon as he can, today or tomorrow, and tell them we accept. And then I'm getting the hell out of this damn town as soon as the plane will leave."

Quinn shook her head, mouth dropping open, and Logan turned, walking up the stairs.

"Logan? Honey. Logan, wait."

But he didn't. And when she heard his door slam shut a minute later, Quinn lifted her hands to her hair, shaking her head, before setting her elbows on the counter and putting her head in her hands.


	22. Ever the Same

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Ever the Same" by Rob Thomas

_LYDIA_

It's been a year.

One entire year has gone by since I did … well, the unthinkable. Three hundred and sixty-five days have passed since I've seen my family, since I've laughed with them, since I've been home and slept in my own bed. Since I've been to Tree Hill.

Since the last time I saw Jude.

I am, quite literally, a thousand times better than I was when I got here. I have learned that the way I was feeling is not my fault. There's nothing I could have done differently to make myself feel differently.

Well, except for the drugs. I shouldn't have done that. I know that now.

I also know that there's nothing wrong with me. Not physically or mentally. I'm not crazy. I have clinical depression, and am now on the correct medications to keep me from falling into the same pattern as my mother, and from "relapsing," so to say.

I know that there's a very good chance I'll have bad days, but bad days do not equal a bad life. The darkness may come back, but it won't stay forever. I know I can reach out, talk to the people around me, and they'll help me.

And I know now that I'm not to blame for what happened to my parents.

I didn't do anything to make my mother kill herself. It wasn't because of me, because I was bad or screwed up. It was her choice to do what she did, just like what I did was my choice. Albeit, the wrong choice, but … I guess sometimes you've got to go through the bad to get to the good, you know? I had to go through the darkness to be able to see the sunshine.

And now, it is bright and shiny and glorious.

I'm happy. 

* * *

 

**_ JUDE _ **

Three hundred sixty-seven days, eight hours, forty-six minutes, and I don't really give a damn how many seconds have gone by since the last time I laid eyes on the most beautiful creature in this world, the girl I love more than anything.

I never thought I'd make it this long.

I wanted to follow behind Clay as he drove her away from me, to beat them to the damn clinic and yank her away from them. I wanted to put her in the car with me and drive until I ran out of gas or road, tuck her away from everything and everyone else but me. I wanted to build us a little cocoon, away from the world, just the two of us. We'd be happy, and I'd be enough for her. I'd help her get better, and everything would be okay.

And now I know that was just a dream.

She was worse off than anyone thought. Well, anyone but me. I knew. I knew how bad she was, and I didn't tell anyone. I have to live with that guilt, of letting her get to the place she got to, where she thought she didn't have any other choice but to end her life.

God, writing that still rips my heart out.

I can still see her, lying in that bathtub. I can see her beautiful face, so pale and full of pain. I can see her skin ripped open, blood coloring the cold water she was lying in, dripping from her as I lifted her out of the tub.

She was unconscious. She'd slipped under the water as soon as I'd stepped into the bathroom, so I know there's no way she could have known it was me. I know she didn't actually lean into me as I lifted her in my arms. I know she didn't smile when she heard me talking to her, begging her not to leave me, to hang on and stay with me.

It's weird, the things I can remember now, and the things I'm not quite so sure about. I remember getting to the house, but I don't remember kicking the door in. The front door, or her bathroom door, since her bedroom door was missing. I remember watching her slide under the water. I remember lifting her from the tub. I don't remember how I found the shirt—my shirt that was on the floor somehow?—but I remember ripping it up and tying the strips on her arms.

I don't know how I knew to do that. I mean, I'm sure I saw it on some TV show or movie or something, but … I was panicking. Out of my fucking mind. There was no way I had any clarity of mind in the least little bit. All I knew was, she was bleeding and she was cold, and I needed to warm her up and stop the bleeding.

Fast forward seven, eight months, and I deliver my new baby sister.

I saved a life, then brought a new one into the world.

Keeping those things in mind, after much soul-searching and deliberating, weighing pros and cons and all that nonsense, I have come to this conclusion:

I, Jude Baker, want to be a doctor.

It's crazy, I know. Medical school takes a long damn time. But I … I think I can do it. And I know it'll be worth it.

I haven't told anyone yet. I guess I hadn't really thought it could happen until I started writing today. But the more I think about it, the more I want to do it. I want to be a doctor. I want to help people. And I know it's a bunch of bullshit and politics and paperwork, but the bottom line is helping people. That's what I want to do.

That's what I'm going to do.

* * *

 

Quinn sat at a barstool in the kitchen, elbows up on the counter, fingers linked together. She was staring at the wall, not really seeing anything so much as trying to clear her mind. The phone rang on the wall beside her, and she glanced over at it, staring at it for a moment, letting it ring two more times before she reached over and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"  
_"Hey, Aunt Quinn."_

Quinn's face broke into a smile, tears coming to her eyes.

"Hello, sweetheart."

Lydia's voice was soft and musical as she spoke.

_"I miss you."_  
"Oh, baby girl. I miss you, too."  
_"I have some good news, Aunt Quinn."_

Quinn smiled, nodding through the tears that slid down her cheeks.

"Tell me."  
_"The doctors say I'm better. And I know I am. I'm … I'm so much better now. And they … they think I'm ready to come back home."_

Quinn lifted her hand to cover her lips.

"Really?"

She could almost hear the smile in Lydia's voice, and she just barely bit back the sob.

_"Really. Dr. Chambers is here, if you want to talk to her, but she thought I could tell you myself."_  
"Lydia, that's wonderful. Yes, let me talk to her."  
_"Okay. I love you, Aunt Q."_  
"I love you too, sweetheart."  
_"And … thank you. For loving me enough to make me do this."_

Quinn held the phone away from her face as she cried. She just couldn't hold it in, couldn't stop the tears from falling. Quinn shook her head, coughing quietly. She let out a long breath, picking the phone up as a soft voice filled the line.

_"Is everything okay?"_

Quinn wanted to laugh.

"Okay?"

No, things were most definitely not okay. Logan was gone, Riley was withdrawn, yet clingy, and Jamie was in and out so much … Quinn shook her head, pushing a smile onto her face.

"As good as can be."  
_"That's understandable. Do you have a minute to talk?"_

* * *

 

Clay stepped into the house, leaning up against the door and letting out a long breath. He leaned his neck from side to side, grimacing at the loud cracks. He set his briefcase down by the door, shrugging his jacket off and hanging it on the hook before tugging his tie off. He unbuttoned the top two buttons before moving down to unbutton his cuffs. He slid his shoes off, padding in his socked feet to the kitchen, coming to a hard stop when he saw his wife sitting at the bar.

Quinn had her hands up, forehead resting on her wrists, and she was crying. Hard.

"Q? Baby, what's wrong?"

Quinn shook her head, and Clay dropped his hands, walking over and putting his arms around Quinn. She shifted in his arms, standing beside the barstool, looping her arms around his neck and sobbing into his shoulder. Clay gently ran his hands up and down her back, just standing there and holding her for the longest time.

She finally sniffled, stepping back and letting out a breath. She leaned against the barstool, setting her hip on it as she reached out for his arm, unbuttoning his cuffs for him as she spoke.

"Lydia called."

Clay's face lit up, and Quinn laughed quietly.

"She's doing so good, Clay."  
"That's great."  
"I, uh … I talked to her doctor."

Clay raised an eyebrow, and Quinn let go of his now-unbuttoned cuffs, reaching instead to hold both of his hands. She smiled, tears gathering in her eyes.

"She's ready to come home."

Clay's blue eyes went wide, and he squeezed Quinn's hands.

"Are you … Are you serious?"

She nodded, and Clay let out a shout, gathering Quinn in his arms and swinging her around as they both laughed. He set her back on the floor, taking her face in his hands and kissing her deeply. He leaned back to see Quinn standing there with a soft smile on her lips, eyes closed, and Clay couldn't help but kiss her again. Quinn moved back into his arms when their kiss was over, and rested her head against his chest, smiling when she heard the steady beat of his heart.

There'd been a time when she was scared she wouldn't get to do what she was doing, letting him hold her while she listened to his heart. Almost losing him changed her, and she'd never been able to get over that.

"I love you."

Quinn smiled when she heard the quiet murmur rumble up from his chest. She turned her face into his shirt, and he smiled as his hand came up, gently playing with her hair. She sighed, moving to rest her cheek against his chest, listening to his heart again before she spoke.

"The doctor thinks our best option is to go up there for a couple of weekends. Go see her, take her out to lunch or something. Slowly re-integrate her into the world. And in a month, she can come home for good."

Clay smiled widely, shaking his head.

"Christ, Quinn. Our girl's coming home."

Tears came to Quinn's eyes again, and she just nodded, looping her arms around Clay's neck and burying her face in his shoulder. He couldn't stop smiling, holding his wife as tightly as humanly possible.

* * *

 

"Okay, so you're going to stay with Aunt Peyton and Ellie, and Dad and I will be back probably late tomorrow. Sound good?"

Quinn was standing at the mirror, rubbing lotion on her hands. Tomorrow would be the first day they could see Lydia. She looked behind her to see Riley sitting on the bed, knees drawn up to her chest. She had her cheek resting on her knee, facing towards the window, away from her mother. Quinn frowned, then stepped towards the bed.

"Honey?"

Riley didn't answer, and Quinn moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Riley, hey."

Riley gave a tiny shake of her head, and Quinn shifted closer to her on the bed. She reached out, gently touching Riley's knee.

"Mom, don't."

Quinn's eyes widened as Riley turned away from her, putting her feet on the floor and sitting with her head down.

"Riley, what's wrong?"

She heard a sniffle and got up from the bed, walking around to kneel in front of her daughter. Gentle hands took hold of Riley's face, lifting until all Quinn could see were tear-stained cheeks with tears still dripping down from sad blue eyes.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

Riley shook her head, but Quinn wouldn't give in.

"Talk to me. Hey."

Riley let out a quiet sob, shaking her head. She lifted a hand to rub at her eyes, muttering quietly.

"It's stupid."  
"Oh, I doubt that."

Riley sniffled, pushing a hand through her sandy blonde hair.

"I just …"

She let out a shaky breath.

"Everyone's gone. Lydia. Uncle Lucas. Davis and Jude left, but they came back. But now Sawyer's gone. And Logan. Jamie's in and out all the time. And I just … I'm so tired of people leaving me here."

Quinn closed her eyes, then stood to her feet, climbing on the bed and taking her daughter in her arms. Riley held Quinn in a tight squeeze, burying her face in Quinn's shoulder, like she did when she was a baby. Quinn lifted a hand to gently brush her fingers through Riley's hair. After a few minutes, when they had both calmed down and Riley's tears had all but stopped, Quinn let out a sigh, speaking softly.

"I thought it might be easier for you to just stay here with Ellie. I don't even know what it's going to be like for me and your dad. How long we'll get to see Lydia, what we'll do… But sweetheart."

Quinn moved back, where she could look Riley in the eye.

"You are always welcome wherever we go. Don't keep all this inside. Talk to me or your dad or whoever."  
"I used to talk to Logan, but now he's gone, too."

Quinn closed her eyes, pulling Riley back into a hug.

"It's okay. Everything's going to be okay."

She opened her eyes, slowly looking out the window at the darkness.

"Somehow, it'll be okay again."

* * *

 

Clay grimaced as he walked into the house. All the lights were off, save for one dim lamp in the living room. He flicked it off as he walked by, sighing as he tugged the tie from his neck and made his way up the stairs. He laid a hand on Logan's door as he walked by it, glancing into Riley's room, brows furrowing when he saw that it was empty. He ignored the door at the end of the hall and walked the opposite direction, to his and Quinn's room, coming to a stop at the doorway.

Quinn looked up from the book she held in her lap, a gentle smile crossing her face. One hand held the book, the other held their daughter. Clay leaned up against the door, smiling at his wife.

"Hey, beautiful."

Quinn smiled back at him, gently rubbing Riley's back. Clay just looked at them for a moment, then walked over to the bed, bending down to kiss Quinn's lips, then to press a kiss to Riley's temple. He sat on the edge of the bed, taking the book from Quinn when she handed it to him, then taking her hand in his. Quinn shook her head.

"She's hurting, Clay. I told her we were going to see Lydia and that she could stay with Peyton and Ellie and she just started crying. I guess she … She feels like everyone's leaving her. Especially now with Logan gone."

Quinn sighed.

"So she's coming with us tomorrow. And she's sleeping in here tonight."

Clay looked down at the teenager laying at her mother's side and he reached over, gently brushing his fingers through her sandy-blonde hair. He sighed, shaking his head.

"How are we supposed to do this?"  
"Honey."

Clay looked up, meeting his wife's eyes, seeing the gentle smile on her face.

"We are doing the best we can."  
"But look at our daughter."  
"And look at our son. And look at our niece and nephew. Clay, we … We were put in an impossible situation a year ago. We did the best we could, and we healed the best we could, and now it's …"  
"What? It's just over?"

Quinn shook her head, letting out a sigh.

"I don't know. But what I do know?"

She reached out for him, and he took her hand again, holding it tightly in his own. She leaned forward, laying her other hand against his cheek.

"I couldn't have gotten through this without you."  
"Q, we—"  
"Did the best we could. We are muddling through the only way we know how, and there is finally a light at the end of the tunnel. It's almost over, Clay."

He let out a quiet laugh.

"How? How is it almost over? Just because she's coming home?"

He shook his head, pushing a hand through his graying hair.

"Look at our family. Jamie's in and out with his basketball. Logan's gone to the other side of the country. Lydia's been in a mental institution for a year, and our baby girl is grasping at straws, trying to find some sense of normalcy, since hers was ripped away from her. And you and I—"  
"Have survived it all."

Tears were in Quinn's eyes as she extricated herself from her sleeping daughter, taking Clay's hand and pulling him to his feet, over to the window.

"I thought the worst time of my life happened years ago, when my dad died. And then, I lost my mom. Then I almost lost you. Then I lost my sister. And then, I almost lost my niece. I've had more 'worst times' than anyone should have, but I have survived it, Clay. And the main reason I have is because of you. You gave me this life, and you gave me your son, then you gave me a daughter. And you took in my niece and nephew without a second thought."

Clay shook his head, taking her face in his hands.

"They're family, Q. And all that stuff you said about me? You agreed to marry me, and I still haven't figured out why. You became a mother to my son without me even asking. You accepted him and loved him, and he adores you. You gave me a little girl, and our lives have been … one hell of a roller coaster."

He leaned in and kissed her lips, because he just couldn't help it, then he leaned back and stared at her face, skimming his thumbs along her cheekbones.

"I love you, Quinn James."

Quinn smiled a shaky smile, tears in her eyes.

"I love you, Clayton Evans."

He pulled her close to him, kissing her forehead once before wrapping his arms around her and holding her. They stayed there for what seemed like the longest time, holding onto each other as moonlight softly shone through their bedroom window.

* * *

 

Riley sat in the backseat, eyes wide as she stared out the window. Quinn was turned around in her seat, watching her daughter, and Clay sighed as he put the car in park. He glanced over to where Riley was staring, and Quinn sighed. The unbuckling of her seatbelt was loud as thunder, cracking through and shattering the silence. Riley looked up, blinking big blue eyes.

"Mama?"

Quinn pushed a smile onto her face.

"We're just going to talk for a while. With the doctor, then with—with Lydia."  
"Maybe grab some lunch in the cafeteria? If they have a … They have to have one."

Quinn rolled her eyes at her husband, and Riley smiled. She took in a breath, letting it out slowly.

"Okay. Let's go."


	23. Bluebird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Bluebird" by Christina Perri

Clay stood behind the car, trying—and failing—to swallow on a dry throat. He couldn't take his eyes away from the building. It was still as cold and clinical as he remembered. The flowers and bushes set up all along the front of the building did nothing to take away from the "hospital"-ness of the site. Clay tried to swallow again, coughing quietly instead.

"Dad?"

He couldn't look away, but lifted an arm, and Riley sidled up next to him. Clay gently rubbed her arm and she took in a deep breath.

"What's going to happen?"

Clay shook his head and let out a breath.

"I don't … I'm not sure."

He heard a soft sigh behind him, and Quinn walked up, slipping her hand into his and gripping tightly.

"We're going to go in and they'll take us to where she is. Then we'll … Talk, I guess."

Clay and Riley just nodded, and they all started walking towards the clinic. With every step, Clay remembered the last time he was here, when he couldn't find the strength to go inside and bring her home. And the memories of the first time they'd ever been to the place kept jumping to the forefront of his mind, when Lydia had been like a zombie, just sitting there and staring at nothing. Clay had touched her, kissed her head, and she hadn't reacted at all.

What if that happened again?

God, he couldn't bear it.

"I—I can't."

Quinn and Riley looked back. Clay had come to a hard stop, and the girls had taken a step ahead of him. He kept shaking his head, walking backwards, and tears were filling his eyes. Quinn stepped forward and caught his hands, forcing him to stop. She tried to pull him close to her, but he wouldn't budge. She glanced over at Riley, who hung her head and walked away from her parents. Quinn reached up and took Clay's face in her hands, gently touching his cheeks, his hair, trying to calm him down.

"Easy, babe. Come on. Clay, breathe."  
"What if she doesn't—"  
"Clay, come on."

He closed his eyes, but tears still leaked down his cheeks. Quinn pulled his head down, putting it on her shoulder, and Clay wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close against him. She closed her eyes, lifting one hand to push through his hair.

"Honey, we … She's not going to be like she was. She's better now."  
"All I can see is the way she was when we dropped her off. She was … I can't handle that again, Quinn. I can't see my girl like that."

Quinn smiled through the tears in her eyes and she pressed a kiss to Clay's cheek.

"She's not like that anymore, honey. She's ready to come home, remember? This is just formality. She's going to talk to us and we'll talk back and … and everything's going to be okay."

Clay closed his eyes, squeezing her once, and Quinn smiled. She took a step back, reaching up to wipe the tears from Clay's face. He let out a shaky sigh, and she leaned up to kiss him gently.

"Can you do this?"

He let out a quiet laugh.

"I don't know. I—I want to, but I … I'm just scared."

Quinn nodded.

"You don't have to go in if you don't want to. You and Riley can stay in the car, and I'll go in."  
"I don't want you to have to do it by yourself."  
"I have to see her, Clay. We came all this way, and she was the one who called me the other day, and at Christmas, and I … I have to see her for myself."

Clay pushed a hand through his hair, blowing out a breath. After a moment, he straightened his shoulders and nodded.

"Okay. Let's … let's do it."

* * *

 

Inside wasn't much brighter than outside. The walls were a crisp white, and everything was so clean. Clay was afraid to lift his hands from his pockets, at the risk of marring the perfect cleanliness all around him. Riley stuck close to his side, and he knew she was feeling the same way. Quinn was just a step ahead of them, speaking to the person behind the front desk.

A few minutes later, they were walking down a hall, following behind who Clay assumed was a nurse. She led them to a room, opening the door and ushering them inside.

"Dr. Chambers will be right with you."

They nodded, and the nurse left. Clay walked over and sat down in one of the chairs, letting out a sigh and pushing his hand through his hair. Riley sat beside him, feet tapping impatiently on the floor. Quinn sat beside Clay, reaching over and tapping Riley on the knee. Her feet slowed to a stop, until her heels began bouncing ever so slightly.

The door opened, and a tall, slim woman walked into the room. Her dark hair was threaded through with gray, pulled back from her face and twisted into a bun. She smiled at them, holding out a hand as they stood to their feet.

"Hello. I'm Dr. Chambers. We've spoken on the phone."

They nodded, and Quinn stepped forward.

"I'm Quinn. This is my husband, Clay, and our daughter, Riley."

Everyone shook hands, and Dr. Chambers motioned for everyone to sit. Quinn and Riley sat down, followed by Dr. Chambers, and Clay was the last to sit down. The doctor crossed her legs, setting her hands in her lap, and her face broke into a smile.

"I'm so glad you all made the trip. Lydia was telling me that it's quite a drive."

They nodded, and Clay cleared his throat.

"It's a good three, four hours, at least. But with these two, we have to stop at every gas station to get snacks, so it takes a bit longer."

The women laughed, and Riley rolled her eyes. Dr. Chambers smiled as she nodded again.

"Well, let's get right to it, shall we? Lydia has been anticipating this visit for quite a while now. She has improved greatly in the last few months. As you know, she had a breakthrough on her birthday. We've spoken about that."

Quinn reached over and took Clay's hand, both of them nodding their heads. The doctor went on.

"The medication we'd started her on was at an incorrect dosage. I've spoken to her about the fact that medicating is not an exact science. Tweaking the dosage or even changing the medication is nearly an everyday occurrence in medicine. She knows that it may happen again, and we may have to up the dosage or change the prescription."

Riley spoke quietly.

"So she has to take medicine?"

Dr. Chambers looked over and nodded.

"Yes, she's on a low dosage of an anti-depressant now. She may not be on the medicine forever, but there is a chance that she will. She knows all this, and she's okay with it. It took us a while to work through it, but she knows that getting help through the medication has no shame in it."

Clay swallowed, holding tightly to Quinn's hand. She covered his hand with her other one, gently patting it. Riley reached over and grabbed Clay's other hand, and he let go of her hand, reaching to put his arm around Riley and pulled her close to his side. Dr. Chambers smiled softly, then nodded her head.

"Well, why don't we get Lydia in here, hmm?"

Quinn nodded, and the doctor stood up and walked out of the room. Clay lifted his hands and covered his face, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. He shook his head, standing to his feet. He pushed a smile onto his face, shaking his head as tears filled his eyes.

"I can't do this."  
"Honey, didn't you hear the doctor? She's better."  
"What if she sees us and goes back to the way she was?"  
"Clay."  
"I can't do this, Quinn. I can't."

Riley stared up at him with tears in her eyes. Clay shook his head, walking around the couch. He lifted a hand towards the door, stepping back as it opened.

His heart went still in his chest.

"Lydia?"

Quinn and Riley turned around, slowly rising up from the couch. Lydia stood in the doorway, a wide smile on her face and tears in her eyes. She let out a shaky sigh, the smile staying on her face while a tear slid down her cheek.

"Hey, Uncle Clay."

He blinked, then stepped forward, wrapping her in his arms. She looped her arms around him, gripping him as tightly as he was holding her, and she let out a watery laugh. Tears were pouring from Clay's eyes as he lifted a shaky hand, cupping the back of Lydia's head, holding her to his chest. She was crying, but smiling when Clay pulled back to look at her.

"Hey, you. Look at you."

Lydia let out a quiet laugh, holding Clay's hands as he stepped back, smiling through the tears in his eyes as he looked her over. She looked so …

Healthy.

He shook his head, pulling her back to him, pressing his lips to her forehead. She closed her eyes, hugging him tightly again until he stepped back. He turned to wipe the tears from his face and Riley stepped forward. She just shook her head and Lydia closed her eyes as she enveloped Riley in her arms.

"Hey, it's okay. Everything's okay, Riles."

Riley buried her face in Lydia's shoulder, and Lydia smiled as she ran her fingers through Riley's sandy blonde hair. She rested her cheek against Riley's head, quietly shushing her. Quinn stood with her hand over her mouth, tears dripping down her face as she watched the girls.

Riley leaned back, looking up, and Lydia smiled at her, lifting her hands and cupping Riley's cheeks, wiping away her tears.

"Don't cry, okay?"

Riley nodded, sniffling.

"Okay."

Lydia smiled, leaning over and kissing Riley's forehead before she looked over, meeting Quinn's eyes. She swallowed, stepping away from Riley, watching her feet as she walked over. She took in a deep breath, lifting her eyes and meeting Quinn's.

"Aunt Quinn, I am … I'm so—so sorry that I—"

Quinn shook her head, reaching out and pulling her close. Quinn let out a sob, closing her eyes, nearly doubling over. Lydia held her tight, crying quietly to herself, putting her face in Quinn's shoulder. Quinn shook her head, rubbing her hands up and down Lydia's back.

"Oh, baby. Lyddie. Oh, honey."

Lydia couldn't talk. She just shook her head, letting out a quiet sob. Quinn smiled, leaning back and cupping Lydia's face in her hands.

"Look how beautiful you are."

Lydia let out a quiet laugh.

"I got my hair cut just a little bit."  
"I see that. It looks great. You look so gorgeous."

Lydia shook her head.

"It's so good to see you. I missed you so much."

Quinn closed her eyes, leaning back to hug Lydia again. Lydia let out a quiet laugh, holding Quinn just as tightly. Quinn opened her eyes, glancing back, seeing Riley with her head against Clay's chest, and his arm drifting up and down her back. Clay's eyes shone as he smiled at his wife, and she smiled back at him as she tightened her grip on their niece.

* * *

 

They all sat on the couch, with Dr. Chambers in a chair across from them. Quinn held tight to one of Lydia's hands, while Riley held her other one. Clay sat on the other side of Riley, with his arm stretched out over the back of the couch, the tips of his fingers toying with Lydia's hair.

They talked about inconsequential things, like the book report Riley was procrastinating on, and the new baseball player Clay just signed to the agency. Quinn talked about the new car she and Clay were talking about buying, and Riley spoke up about the teacher that was leaving when the school year was up.

Lydia glanced over at the doctor, who nodded to her, smiling gently. When the conversation came to a lull, Lydia cleared her throat quietly.

"What, um … What about Jamie?"

Clay and Quinn exchanged a look, and Quinn smiled as she patted Lydia's hand.

"We didn't tell him we were coming."  
"Did he have a game this week?"

Clay shook his head.

"No, not this week. But he, uh … He got traded."  
"He did?"

Clay nodded, smiling softly, easing Lydia's sudden worry.

"To the Bobcats."

Lydia blinked, glancing at the floor, speaking softly.

"Like Dad."

Clay and Quinn exchanged a glance, and Clay nodded.

"Yeah, babe. Just—just like your dad."

Lydia nodded, still staring at the ground.

"How is he doing?"  
"Jamie?"

Lydia nodded in answer to Quinn's question, but she didn't look up. Quinn looked over to the doctor, who nodded for her to continue. Quinn let out a sigh.

"He's … he's having a rough time with everything."

Lydia nodded, and Dr. Chambers leaned over.

"Lydia?"

Lydia lifted her head, and tear-filled navy blue eyes locked with her therapist. Dr. Chambers gave a gentle smile.

"We thought that might be the case, remember?"

Lydia nodded, sniffling.

"You and he had quite a fight before you came here, didn't you?"

Lydia nodded again.

"I didn't mean the things I said to him."

Dr. Chambers' smile softened.

"Oh, I'm sure he knows that."

Lydia shook her head, voice low, one tear slipping down her cheek.

"I said some horrible things."

Quinn glanced over at Dr. Chambers, who sat back in her chair. Quinn swallowed, lifting a hand to push through Lydia's soft chocolate-brown hair.

"Hey, listen."

Lydia glanced over at Quinn, sniffling once, pulling her hand from Riley's and accepting the tissue Clay handed her. Quinn smiled, continuing to brush her fingers through Lydia's hair.

"We'll call him on the way home, and next week, maybe … Maybe we can get him to come, too."

Lydia met her gaze, hope visible in her navy blue eyes.

"You really think so?"

Quinn smiled.

"I will do my best."

Lydia nodded, sniffling again. Riley patted her leg, and Lydia let out a quiet laugh.

"Well, tell me something else."

They sat there for a minute, until Riley's face lit up, her mouth in a little "O".

"Jude and Davis have a new baby sister."  
"Really?"  
"Yeah, and Jude delivered her!"

Lydia's mouth dropped open and Quinn let out a laugh.

"Yeah. That was our reaction, too."  
"He delivered a baby?"

Quinn nodded, and Lydia glanced down again.

"So he was … in L.A.?"

Quinn and Clay let out a sigh, and Clay spoke quietly.

"Yeah, babe. He and Davis spent the summer there."

Lydia nodded slowly. She looked up to Dr. Chambers, then over to Quinn.

"I don't know what to do. I want to see Jude more than … just about anything, but I … I don't want him to come here. I don't want him to see me here."

Tears were in her eyes again, and Quinn reached a hand up to cup her cheek.

"It's all right, honey. He doesn't have to come."  
"I just … I don't want him to feel like I don't want him here. I do. I want to see him so badly, but I just … I don't know."

Quinn smiled softly.

"I understand."  
"Do you?"

Quinn nodded.

"I can't really put it into words either, but I know exactly what you mean."

Lydia nodded slowly, looking into Quinn's eyes.

"You'll talk to him for me?"

Quinn smiled and nodded.

"I will."  
"Just don't let him feel like he's not wanted."  
"I promise."

Lydia nodded, leaning over and resting her head on Quinn's shoulder. Quinn closed her eyes, lifting her hand to brush through Lydia's hair, smiling a shaky smile. Dr. Chambers cleared her throat, standing to her feet and brushing off her skirt.

"Well, why don't we give them the grand tour? Lydia?"

Lydia smiled and nodded, standing up and keeping hold of Quinn's hand.

"Let me show you the worst place first. The cafeteria."

Everyone laughed, and the smile on Lydia's face could have lit up the room. Clay threw an arm around her shoulder, pulling Riley up close to him as they left the room.

* * *

 

The rest of the day flew by, much too fast for everyone involved. Clay was scared to death that the goodbyes would be too hard, or worse, a setback, but Lydia just smiled and hugged everyone, making them promise to return the next weekend. No one commented on the tears that stayed in her eyes, and she stood on the front steps, waving goodbye until they couldn't see her anymore.

Quinn sat with her head back against the seat, eyes closed. Clay reached over and took her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing her knuckles.

"She's really okay."

Clay smiled, squeezing Quinn's hand gently.

"She is. She's like a brand new person."  
"I was so scared, Clay. And she … She's okay."

He let go of her hand, reaching over to lay his hand against her cheek. She took in a deep breath, leaning into his touch, then opening her eyes, tears sparkling in the blue as she looked at him. Clay gave her a soft smile, flipping on the right blinker and coming to a stop on the side of the road.

Riley raised an eyebrow as Clay opened his door and climbed out of the car. The girls both blinked as Clay opened Quinn's door, and she climbed from the car, closing her eyes and sighing as he wrapped her up in his arms.

"I love you."  
"I love you too, baby."

Clay smiled as he turned and pressed his lips to Quinn's temple.

"Our girl's coming home, Q."

Quinn leaned back, looking into his eyes, a smile spreading across her face.

"She is. Oh, Clay."

He laughed, pulling her close and kissing her. Riley smiled as she stared out the window, shaking her head as she watched her parents dance on the side of the road.

* * *

 

Jamie sat on the bench with a towel around his shoulders, a bottle of water in his hand that he was rolling between his palms. As it has been the last few weeks, his mind was not on the practice he'd just had, or the game the team had won the day before.

No, his mind was in a treatment facility with his sister.

He ran his hand over his face and into his hair. He dropped the water bottle between his feet, pushing both hands into his hair and gripping tightly. He hissed out a breath at the sting of the pain, closing his eyes.

He didn't understand what the hell was wrong with him. He'd been doing so good, ever since the …

Well, he couldn't really call it an accident. It wasn't, not at all. It was a beat-down, if he was honest. Jude quite literally had beat the hell out of him, and Jamie had deserved every second of it. Aside from the almost-dying thing, the … incident had helped him.

He'd gotten Clay to set up the trade, and he was loving being a Bobcat. He wore the number 23, just like his father, and every time he stepped onto the court, he felt like Nathan was there with him. He made the trip home to Tree Hill more than he ever had, especially for the holidays. He'd spoken to Lydia at Christmas, and she'd sounded great.

And ever since then, he felt like he was sinking.

Jamie stood up, walking to his locker, tossing the towel effortlessly into the pile that needed to be washed. He gripped the nameplate, the shining _Jamie Scott-23_ that hung above the locker and let out a shaky sigh.

It wasn't just Lydia that was bothering him. That was a big portion, but not the whole thing. This part of the year was always hard for him. He turned from his locker, walking back to the bench and sitting down again. He looked down at his watch, catching the date, blinking widely.

He'd been so wrapped up in everything with Lydia last year that he'd completely forgotten about it. First time in almost ten years.

Actually, exactly ten years now. This year made a decade.

He quickly changed out of his uniform, slipping into a pair of sweatpants and a grey t-shirt. A hat on his head and sunglasses on his face completed his ensemble, and he threw his bag over his shoulder. He smiled and waved at the cameras that seemed to be a permanent fixture outside the arena, paying no attention to their questions or statements. He climbed into his car when he reached it, turning his mind off as he drove away from the arena.

He flipped on the radio, scanning through channels until he found a country station. He sat back in his seat, letting his mind drift as the music filled the car. He glanced over, looking at the object that was twined around his gear shift, the one thing he'd carried with him for almost twenty years now. He reached over, rubbing the shoelace between his thumb and forefinger.

"Entrepreneur."

He swallowed, glancing in his rearview mirror and changing lanes. He took an exit, glancing at the clock once before settling back in his seat. The drive took almost three hours, but Jamie didn't care. He made two stops, one to fill up on gas, the other to pick up the same thing he'd picked up for ten years, except for last year.

Jamie pulled up at his destination hours before the sun went down. He looked out the passenger window, taking in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He reached over and grabbed the bundle that lay on the seat beside him, and climbed out of the car, slowly making his way under the iron letters, through a field of stone.

* * *

 

"Hey, Madison."

Jamie knelt down, laying the bouquet of white roses on the ground. He smiled sadly, brushing leaves from the top of the marker.

"It's been too long, I know. But I've had … no excuse."

He sighed, shaking his head as tears filled his eyes. He moved to sit on the ground, leaning up against the stone. He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back to rest against the smooth marble. He remembered it like it happened yesterday. The shrill sound of the phone ringing in the middle of the night, slashing through the silence, waking them from sleep, scaring them all. Jamie was sixteen at the time, Logan was thirteen, Lydia was seven, and Riley was five. Jamie remembered sitting up in bed, a few seconds before Lydia was in his arms, trembling and telling him she was scared, and cold. He held her close, bundling her up in his comforter as Clay walked into the room.

_"Jame, get dressed."_  
_"What's going on?"_

Clay didn't answer. He just lifted Lydia into his arms and carried her from the room. Jamie climbed out of bed and threw on the first clothes he could grab from his closet. He jogged down the hall, to see Lydia and Riley curled up together in Quinn and Clay's big bed, sound asleep again. Logan was on Clay's pillow, sitting up to keep watch over his sister and cousin, but quickly drifting off.

_"Clay, what's wrong?"_

Clay held a finger to his lips, motioning with his head for Jamie to follow him to the hallway. He did, and Clay sighed, placing his hands on Jamie's shoulders.

_"Lucas is on his way over."_  
_"Why? What happened?"_  
_"There was an accident."_

Jamie's blood ran like ice water in his veins.

_"Wh—who?"_

Clay sighed, tightening his grip.

_"Madison."_

Jamie's eyes went wide, and he backed out of Clay's hold.

_"Wh—what? No. No, she was … The ski trip. She went on a ski thing with her parents."_

Clay nodded.

_"They got into an accident. The roads were icy, and—"_  
_"No, Clay, this is … They got the wrong—not Madison."_

Clay sighed again, taking a step forward, and Jamie turned and ran down the stairs. He bypassed Quinn in the kitchen, speaking softly into the phone, ignoring her when she called for him. He got to the front door, throwing it open and running straight into his uncle's arms.

_"Hang on, Jamie. I got you."_

Jamie clung to Lucas, and the plans suddenly shifted, without any explanations. Clay climbed into the car with Lucas and Jamie, while Quinn watched over the sleeping children. On the way to the hospital, Jamie learned that Madison's father had fallen asleep at the wheel, and the car skidded on a patch of black ice before slamming into a tree. Both her mother and father had been killed on impact.

Madison died two days later, while Jamie held her hand.

He opened his eyes again, scanning the graveyard, trying to ignore the tears that rolled down his cheeks. He turned, sitting with his side against the headstone, hand lifting to trace the letters etched into the stone. His heart skipped when he traced the dates, much too close together.

"I feel like everyone I've ever loved ends up here. Mom. Dad. Grandpa Dan. You."

He sniffled as he shook his head.

"And my sister almost joined you. How am I supposed to … I handled that wrong, I know. I'm sure you would have punched me if you'd seen me a year ago."

A smile crossed his face, and he closed his eyes again as he leaned his head back.

"God, I miss you."

He blinked his eyes open, one tear slipping down his cheek.

"Sometimes I wonder what things would be like if it were different. If it would be like my dream I had a few months ago. Mom and Dad still alive, and Lydia and I had a little brother and sister."

He glanced to the side, lifting his thumb to run along the stone.

"I bet you and me … we'd be just like Mom and Dad. By now, we'd be married for like 9, 10 years. Have a kid or two. Maybe even three by now. You always did want a lot of kids. What did we decide, five or six? Of course, we were eleven when we 'decided' that, so …"

He let out a quiet laugh.

"I miss you, Maddie. I feel like shit for not coming to see you last year. I think you understand, though. Extenuating circumstances, you know?"

He closed his eyes, tears sliding down his cheeks.

"I knew how to spell entrepreneur. Remember that spelling bee in fourth grade? I misspelled it on purpose, so you could win. Because I loved to see you smile. Did I ever tell you that, Maddie? Did I tell you that I let you win because I wanted everyone to clap for you? Because I wanted you to be in the spotlight?"

Jamie let out a sob, lifting a hand to cover his mouth. He sniffled, opening his eyes again.

"I always … I always thought that you knew. You were so smart. And you knew me. So you … you had to know."

Jamie lifted a hand, wiping his eyes. He let out a long sigh.

"Things are crap right now, Maddie. And I don't … I don't know how to fix it."

He blew out his breath, shaking his head.

"I need to go home. I've got to get this … mess in my head straightened out before I knock the Bobcats out of the playoffs."

He got to his feet, brushing off his knees before he bent over and pressed his lips to the gravestone.

"Bye, Mad. I miss you. I love you. Always have."

He stuck his hands in his pockets, walking slowly towards the exit. He stopped, hanging his head, turning to walk the opposite direction, stopping in his tracks when a familiar voice broke through the stillness.

"Well, well. Look who it is."

A wide smile crossed Jamie's face.

"Chuck Skolnik. No fucking way."

Chuck threw his head back and laughed, walking forward and wrapping Jamie in a hug. They both stepped back, and Jamie shook his head when he took in the sight of his former best friend, decked out in blue-tinged camouflage.

"How's life in the Air Force?"

Chuck shrugged his shoulders, looking out across the cemetery.

"Sometimes it blows, but mostly … It's fucking awesome."

Jamie let out a laugh, and Chuck crossed his arms over his chest, nodding towards him.

"How's the NBA? You just got traded?"

Jamie nodded.

"Yeah, I, uh … I felt like it was time to come home."

Chuck nodded and smiled, but it dissolved from his face when he spoke again.

"I've heard some whispers about … well, you know."  
"My sister."

Chuck sighed and nodded again.

"I'm real sorry about that, Jamie."  
"Thanks, man. But she … She's getting better."  
"That's good."

They both nodded, and Jamie let out a laugh as he lifted a hand to rub at the back of his neck.

"When did things get weird like this?"

Chuck smiled again.

"When school ended. When you went to the NBA and I joined the Air Force."

Chuck glanced towards the place Jamie had just left.

"When we lost Madison."

Jamie swallowed and nodded, noticing the bouquet of daisies in Chuck's hand. He pushed a smile on his face, lifting a hand and motioning towards the flowers.

"She'd love those."  
"You think so?"

Jamie nodded.

"Oh, I know so. Look, I've got a couple more stops to make, then I got to get home. Will you be in town for a while?"  
"A week or so."  
"Call me or come by the Café. They'll know how to find me."

Chuck nodded, and Jamie laughed again as he wrapped Chuck in another hug.

"It's great to see you, Chuck."  
"You too, Jamie. Be safe."

Jamie smiled as he slid his hands back in his pockets, glancing over his shoulder to see Chuck kneel beside Madison's headstone, laying his flowers on top of it. Jamie looked down at his feet as he walked away, coming to a stop in between two marble stones.

"Hey, guys."

He tried to smile, closing his eyes and sinking to his knees instead. He put his head in his hands, shoulders shaking as he cried. He lay down in the grass, the fingers of one hand touching his mother's headstone, the other hand resting against his father's. He couldn't stop the tears. His hands kept opening and closing, reaching for the parents he needed so badly, but just couldn't get to. The sobs seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him, and he choked back as much noise as he could, keeping his eyes closed.

"Hey, buddy. Come here."

Jamie blinked his eyes open as gentle hands tugged on his shoulder, lifting him up to a sitting position.

"A—Aunt Brooke?"

Brooke smiled softly as she took Jamie into her arms. He threw his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. She moved to sit against one of the stones, moving Jamie as much as she could with her, until he was practically in her lap, still crying against her shoulder. She stroked his hair, dark like his father's, smiling softly.

She never told him that it was okay, or that he needed to stop crying. Brooke had learned a long, long time ago that sometimes, a person just needed to cry. Sometimes there was no rhyme or reason. But most of the time, there was, and finding Jamie in a cemetery, lying between his parents' graves…

Brooke sighed, continuing to stroke his hair. Jamie's sobs quieted, and Brooke smiled when she felt that he had the hiccups. His breath still wasn't coming naturally, and his body jolted with each hiccup. Brooke kissed his forehead, then spoke softly.

"It's been ten years since Madison's accident, hasn't it?"

Jamie leaned back, looking up at her, and Brooke smiled softly. She reached a hand up to cup his cheek, and Jamie nodded. She nodded back to him, glancing out over the stones.

"I thought so. Hard to believe, isn't it?"

Jamie nodded.

"I didn't … I didn't think I'd make it this long."

Brooke closed her eyes, kissing his head again. Jamie sighed.

"I just feel like … like everyone I've ever loved is here. Mom and Dad. Grandpa Dan. Madison. Lydia almost made it here—"  
"But she didn't."

Jamie sighed, sitting up beside his godmother. Brooke looped her arm around his shoulders.

"Listen to me, all right? I know it's all you've heard for a year, but maybe you should actually listen to it for once. It's not your fault."  
"Aunt Brooke, I never—"  
"Please. James Lucas Scott, I have known you since before you were born. I used to talk to you in Haley's belly and you'd kick me. So don't even try to pull the lying crap on me."

Jamie glanced away, unable to hide his smile.

"I really kicked you?"  
"Every time you heard my voice. And you hardly ever kicked for Lucas."

Jamie let out a quiet laugh, leaning to rest his head on Brooke's shoulder.

"I don't know what's wrong with me. I mean, yeah. I'm worried about Lydia still. She seems to be getting better, but … I don't know, I guess what she did will always hang over us. And then with everything that happened last year, I forgot about Madison. So I feel guilty, I guess."

Brooke sighed.

"Jamie, I want you to listen to me, and I don't want you to get mad when I say this, okay?"

He nodded, closing his eyes, anticipating what she would say.

"Madison is gone. She's not mad at you or holding the fact that you didn't come last year against you. The reason we come to places like this is for us. Your mom and dad don't sit behind their headstones and tally up who comes to see them. They're not here. We are. The markers and the flowers are to let other people know how much the ones we lost meant to us. They're not for the dead. They're for the ones still living."

Jamie felt the tears well up in his eyes again, and he stared at his hands. Brooke reached over, fingers brushing through his hair.

"You need to understand that coming here is something you do for you. Because you need the closure or the memories, not because you feel some sense of duty or that you have to."

Tears swam in blue eyes as Jamie looked to Brooke.

"I just don't want to forget."

Brooke's smile was sad.

"Oh, baby."

She reached over and wrapped her arms around him, bringing her cheek to rest against his.

"There's no way you'll ever forget. The people here, the ones you come to see, they're in your heart, J-man. And when someone touches you that deeply, they're there forever."

Jamie closed his eyes, turning to embrace Brooke fully. She smiled, holding him close, closing her eyes when he pressed a kiss to her temple.

"You're in my heart, Aunt Brooke."  
"You're in mine too, Jamie. I love you."

He leaned back, giving her a smile.

"I love you, too. Thanks for this."  
"Anytime."

She smiled at him as he stood up, taking the hand he offered and groaning as she stood beside him.

"I'm getting too old for this."

He let out a laugh.

"Not a chance."

They started to walk away, stopping a few feet from the graves when Jamie stopped, turning and glancing over his shoulder. Brooke squeezed his hand and he turned from her, walking back over and kneeling between his parent's graves. Brooke crossed her arms over her chest as she watched him, as he kissed his fingers and touched Haley's marker, then Nathan's. She swallowed and blinked back tears, laughing when Jamie wrapped her in a hug from behind, lifting her off the ground.

"James Lucas Scott!"  
"Brooke Penelope Davis!"

They laughed as he set her back down, and he draped his arm across her shoulders as they walked out to their cars.

* * *

 

Jamie sighed as he walked into the big house. There was a light on in the living room, which meant either they knew he was coming, or someone was waiting up for him.

Make that two someones.

Jamie smiled as he walked into the living room, meeting the eyes of his aunt and uncle, then watching them smile as they saw him. Quinn set her book aside as she stood up and wrapped him in a hug, and Clay set the paper on the coffee table as he stood.

"Sorry I'm here so late. I spent the day with Aunt Brooke."

Quinn smiled at him and nodded.

"That's okay. How are you doing?"

Jamie lifted his shoulders, letting them fall again. He stared at the ground, taking in a breath and letting it out slowly.

"Today was … was ten years since Madison died."

Quinn looked over to Clay, who blew out a breath.

"God, Jamie. We … we didn't—"  
"It's okay. I had a long talk with Aunt Brooke about it. I just …"

Jamie shook his head, letting out a sigh.

"I don't know."

Quinn looked over to Clay, a wide smile on her face. She walked over and looped one arm around Jamie's shoulder, playing with his hair.

"I think I know something to help you."

* * *

Jamie yawned, the sun warm as it shone through the window of the car. He blinked and smacked his lips, looking forward to see Clay and Quinn holding hands in the front seats.

"Anybody want to tell me what we're doing?"  
"Not yet."

Jamie sighed, shifting in his seat. He tugged the baseball cap he had on down over his eyes, slumping down in the seat and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Wake me up when we get there."

Quinn and Clay just exchanged a smile.

* * *

 

"Jamie. Hey. Jamie, wake up."

He groaned, trying and failing to blink his eyes. He reached up and pulled the baseball cap off, wincing at the bright sunlight. He put the hat back on his head, rubbing his eyes and looking up. Quinn smiled down at him, motioning with her head.

"We're here."

Jamie nodded, groaning as he climbed out of the car. He stretched his arms over his head, letting them fall to his sides as he looked around.

"What is this place?"

Quinn looked over to Clay, who met her eyes, then looked down to the ground. Jamie raised an eyebrow, glancing around again, walking away from the cars.

"Jamie, wait a second."

His heart began a funny little double-time in his chest, and he came to a hard stop as he saw the welcome sign at the entrance of the parking lot. He looked back, eyes wide.

"What are we … What the hell?"

Quinn held up her hands.

"Just listen."

Jamie let out a harsh breath, staring at his aunt. She nodded.

"The doctor called us a few weeks ago. Lydia's almost ready to come home. We came here last week to see her, and Jamie, she … She's doing so much better."

Jamie shook his head.

"No. No, this … You should have told me!"

He yanked the cap off his head and pushed his hands through his hair. He missed the look Clay and Quinn exchanged, flinching away harshly when Quinn tried to touch his arm. Jamie shook his head, walking back towards the car. He stopped when a musical laugh filled the air, followed by an excited shout.

"Hey!"

He turned slowly, eyes widening when he saw Lydia standing just outside the door, at the top of the steps. He watched as Clay smiled, walking towards the steps. Lydia went up on her toes, holding her hands behind her back.

"Dr. Chambers said I could come out to you."  
"Well, I'm glad she did. How you doing, baby?"

Lydia smiled wider, going to walk down the steps and stopping. The smile slid from her face as her navy blue eyes landed on her brother. Her hands fell limp by her sides, and the look on her face nearly broke his heart. Sadness, trepidation, regret? Jamie couldn't name all of the emotions he saw swirling in his little sister's eyes.

"Go to her."

Jamie glanced over at Quinn, who stepped behind him, crossing her arms over her chest and lifting one hand to bite at her thumbnail. Jamie swallowed as Clay took a step back, staying close to Lydia, just in case.

Jamie took a few steps forward, watching Lydia, the way she seemed to tremble, but stayed where she was. He came to a stop near the bottom of the steps, glancing at the ground before he lifted his eyes to hers again. She blinked slowly, then met his gaze. Jamie gave her a little half-smile, lifting his hand and slowly dragging one finger down his nose.

Tears filled Lydia's eyes, and a silent sob shook her torso. Jamie blinked back tears of his own, taking another step forward, opening his arms.

"Hey, baby sister."

She ran down the steps, crying out as she crashed into him, arms wrapping around him as she buried her face in his shoulder. Jamie caught her easily, tears pouring down his cheeks as he held her close to him. How they stayed upright, Jamie didn't know, because he felt like all his strength was zapped out of him when he saw her. He sniffled, realizing then that she was saying something, whispering into his shirt as her tears continued to fall.

"Lyd. Hey, hey. Breathe, little sister."

He gently rubbed her back, and she gave sharp, stilted breaths as she moved back just enough to look up at him, meeting his eyes again. Tears slid from pools of navy blue, and she shook her head.

"I—I'm so sorry, James. I'm so sorry."

He closed his eyes, pulling her back to him, holding one hand on the back of her head as she sobbed, trembling in his arms, fingers digging into his back. Jamie turned his head, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple.

"I'm so glad you're all right."  
"Jamie, I—"  
"Shh. It's okay."  
"It's not."  
"It doesn't matter anymore."

Lydia sniffled, shaking her head as she stepped out of his arms.

"How can you say that? What I did, the things I said …"

She shook her head again.

"It matters. It will always matter."

Jamie stuck his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet. Lydia sighed, lifting a hand to touch at her ponytail. Jamie glanced up then, seeing the scar that started just below her palm and extended about two inches down from her wrist. He swallowed, looking back down. But she'd seen where his eyes had been. She walked over, standing in front of him again. She took in a deep breath and reached out, taking one of his hands. Jamie watched her, as she brought his hand to her wrist, forcing his fingers to dance over the puckered skin. Jamie shook his head.

"Why, Lyd? Why did you do it?"

She blinked once, letting go of his hand, watching as he touched her skin on his own. She took in a breath, letting it out slowly. He lifted his eyes to hers, and she smiled.

"Because I didn't think I had any other choice. I felt so bad, Jamie. All the time, it was like this darkness just covered me. I honestly believed that everything would be fine if I was … if I was dead."

Jamie shut his eyes, tears pooling behind his lids.

"How can you think that? How, for one second, can you think this life would be better without you in it?"  
"I don't."

Jamie opened his eyes then, and a tear drifted down his cheek. Lydia gave him another small, sad smile, reaching up to cup his face, catching the tear with her thumb.

"I used to think that, but I don't anymore."

She let her hand fall, taking in a breath, letting it out slowly.

"I know now that I did the wrong thing. I felt like I had no other choice, but that … that was so far from the truth."

She looked down at her shoes.

"I can't take it back, as much as I wish I could. All I can do is tell you how sorry I am for what I did … and what I said."

She looked up then, meeting Jamie's eyes.

"I didn't mean what I said, James. The things I told you …"

She shook her head.

"I didn't mean it. I was just angry and hurt and sad and I took it out on you. It wasn't fair and I … I just—"  
"You were sick."

She blinked, and Jamie reached over, tucking a stray piece of her hair, one that had escaped from her ponytail, back behind her ear.

"That's what I know now. You were sick, and you needed help, and I should have been there to help you."  
"Jamie."

Lydia's eyes were wide, full of hurt.

"This wasn't your fault. It was mine."  
"But if I would have been there, if I could have seen you—"

She let out a sob as she moved back into his arms, putting her face in his chest. Jamie swallowed as he closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around her and resting his head atop hers. Jamie gently rubbed his hands up and down her arms, until she leaned back, sniffling.

"Please don't blame yourself for this."  
"Who am I supposed to blame? You?"  
"I was the one who did it. I am to blame."  
"No, you were sick."

He stepped away from her, taking his cap off and pushing his hand through his hair before settling the cap back on his head. He put his hands on his hips, glancing out across the parking lot.

"I can't forgive myself for this one, Lyd. If I could have been there, if I could have watched you, I could have helped."  
"Jamie, I honestly don't think you could have."

He glanced over his shoulder, watching as she walked up beside him, putting her hands in her pockets.

"Look at all the people I had around me. Clay and Quinn. Riley. Aunt Brooke. Sawyer, Davis, J—Jude. They all noticed, and they tried to help. But it was me. I was the one who played them, who pretended like I was getting help, but I was just … sinking."

She sighed, shaking her head.

"And then I sank too low. But it was me, Jamie. It was my choice, my actions. I did it all by myself."  
"You never should have been by yourself."  
"Oh, so now you're going to blame Clay and Quinn?"

He blinked at her, and she shook her head.

"I was sixteen years old, Jamie. They did everything they could to help me. They took my bedroom door away. I had given them no reason not to trust me throughout my entire life. So when they left me, they didn't know what I was planning to do. They didn't know because I didn't tell them. Any blame here is mine, and only mine."

She looked up to see him looking back at her. She gave him a small smile, lifting her shoulders and letting them fall. Jamie put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him and kissing the top of her head.

"I can't blame you, Lyd. I've never been able to put any kind of blame on you."  
"Even if it was my fault?"  
"Especially then."

Lydia let out a laugh, and Jamie squeezed her shoulder.

"I love you, little sister."

She wrapped her arms around his torso, giving him a squeeze.

"I love you too, big brother. I'm glad you're here."  
"I'm so glad you're okay."

He turned and took her fully into his arms, and Lydia closed her eyes, a soft smile on her face. They both turned at the sound of a throat being cleared behind them, and Lydia smiled when Clay stepped forward.

"We good?"

Lydia looked up at Jamie, who smiled back down at her. Jamie nodded.

"We're good."  
"Great, because I'm starved. What's there to eat in this town?"

* * *

 

Quinn watched as Clay started walking to the car, one arm around Jamie, the other around Lydia. She lifted a hand to her heart, smiling softly.

They'd slipped away to talk to the doctor while Jamie and Lydia were talking. Lydia was improving leaps and bounds ahead of schedule. If everything went all right today, which was actually the entire weekend, at a hotel and everything, then Lydia could go home with them the following weekend.

Quinn and Clay had decided not to tell the kids, just in case, but Quinn was hopeful. Everything was going so well now. She closed her eyes, opening them again and glancing to the side, as something caught her eye.

A beautiful monarch butterfly.

Tears pooled in Quinn's eyes as she smiled, letting out a quiet, watery laugh. She pressed her hand a little harder over her heart, until she could feel the steady beat.

"Aunt Quinn?"

She looked forward again, smiling when she saw Lydia standing in the walkway by herself. God, she'd missed the sound of her voice. Lydia gave her a smile, walking closer to her.

"Uncle Clay said to tell you to get a move on. He's starving."  
"He's always starving."

Lydia giggled quietly, and Quinn glanced over at the flowers again. Lydia stepped up beside her, seeing what Quinn had seen. Lydia smiled, speaking softly.

"You found the Mommy butterfly."

Quinn couldn't help the tears that slid down her face. When Lydia was little, Quinn had told her that anytime she saw a butterfly, it was her mother coming to check on her. She'd tried to explain about the different kind, with different names, and Lydia had a hard time pronouncing "monarch." So, she just called it a "Mommy" butterfly.

"Yeah, I did."  
"She's been fluttering around here ever since I can remember."

Quinn glanced over to see Lydia smiling softly.

"I like to think it really is Mama, watching over me."  
"I like to think that, too."

Quinn sniffled, shaking her head and taking Lydia's hand.

"Let's go."

They took a few steps, and Quinn dropped Lydia's hand when her phone vibrated in her purse. She pulled it out, rolling her eyes at the text from Clay.

"He's threatening to leave us. We better get a—"

She stopped when she glanced over at Lydia, who stood there with a smile on her face, one hand outstretched, the butterfly sitting in her palm. Quinn swallowed, and Lydia looked over, smiling even wider.

"She just landed here like it was her home."

Lydia smiled, leaning forward and blowing out gently, letting her hand fall as the butterfly flew away. Quinn blinked, before walking over and taking Lydia in her arms. Lydia hugged her back, until Quinn sniffled, turning towards the car, taking Lydia's hand, and leading her to it.


	24. When You Come Back To Me Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "When You Come Back To Me Again" by Garth Brooks

Quinn glanced out of the window at the café, smiling as she watched the people on the sidewalk. She absently stirred her cup of tea, paying no attention to the woman sitting across from her. Brooke didn't mind though, she sat with a small smile on her face, watching Quinn, noticing that, for the first time in a long time, Quinn seemed to be at peace. She finally reached over though, gently gripping Quinn's wrist, stopping the absentminded stirring. Quinn's blue eyes were wide for a moment, and she let out a quiet laugh.

"I have just been completely ignoring you, Brooke. I'm sorry."  
"No, it's … it's fine. I didn't even mind."

Quinn smiled, patting Brooke's hand. They shared a smile, taking sips of their drinks. Quinn glanced back outside, and Brooke spoke softly.

"Is everything okay?"

Quinn let out a quiet laugh.

"You know, for once … I think it is. Well, not entirely. Logan's still …"

She sighed, shaking her head. Brooke pursed her lips as she nodded.

"Because of everything with Sawyer?"

Quinn nodded, and Brooke pushed a hand through her hair.

"Yeah, Peyton was telling me about that. Well, some. She didn't know much."  
"Neither do I."

Brooke sighed.

"Guess the only ones who do are Logan and Sawyer?"  
"And neither one of them are talking, because they're both gone."

They shared a sigh this time, before Brooke cleared her throat.

"Yeah, and they're … they're not the only ones."

Quinn narrowed her eyes, and Brooke sighed.

"Lucas left."

Quinn's eyes widened.

"Left? What do you mean 'left'?"  
"I mean he left town, and no one knows where he went."

Quinn's mouth fell open, and Brooke nodded.

"Yeah, Peyton's pretty torn up about it."  
"I haven't even seen her lately. Haven't called her or anything. God."  
"Well … She's not exactly here, either."

Quinn raised an eyebrow, and Brooke sighed.

"Peyton and Ellie left a few days ago to meet up with Karen and Sawyer."  
"Seriously?"

Brooke nodded.

"They were in Edinburgh, Scotland, last I heard. I told her I thought it would be good for them to get away. And if Lucas comes back, well, then I'll feel better about the ass-kicking I'm going to give him."

Quinn laughed to herself, then leaned forward.

"Where do you think he's gone?"

Brooke let out a laugh.

"Hell if I know. He's not in Tree Hill anymore, I can promise you that. Owen's looked everywhere for him. No one else has heard from him."  
"You checked?"   
"Well, I didn't exactly put out a Missing Person's Report, but … I called Mouth, who hasn't heard anything. Karen's clueless. As is your sister Taylor."

Quinn held out her hands, and Brooke shrugged her shoulders.

"Wouldn't be the first time a Scott boy turned to that particular James sister."

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Taylor's not like that anymore."   
"Well, I thought it couldn't hurt to check."   
"Yeah, that was probably a good move."

Brooke nodded.

"Anyway, Julian hasn't heard a thing, Deb hasn't heard a thing, and Owen's got his people keeping an eye out, too."   
"I can ask Clay. He's got some fairly good sources."  
"Couldn't hurt."

Quinn nodded, finishing up her tea. She let out a sigh, then reached across the table.

"I have some good news."

Brooke pushed her mug aside, reaching over and taking the hands Quinn offered.

"I'm all ears."

Quinn smiled, squeezing Brooke's hands.

"Lydia's coming home."

Brown eyes went wide, and Brooke's mouth fell open.

"We're going to get her Saturday morning."  
"Are you serious?"

Quinn nodded, a wide smile crossing her face.

"The last couple of weekends, we've gone to the treatment center. We've seen her, talked to her. Last weekend, we took Jamie and spent the whole weekend in Columbia. First time in a year she's spent time away from the center, and she did wonderfully. She and I stayed in a hotel room, and it was … it was like old times, Brooke."

Tears gathered in Quinn's eyes as she spoke.

"We talked and laughed. She sat back and let me do her hair, and she painted my nails."

Quinn held out her hands, and Brooke smiled when she saw the teal blue polish, with Quinn's ring fingers painted in sparkly gold. Quinn sniffled.

"She crawled into my bed a little after midnight, and I stayed up for the longest time, just watching her. We had to pry Jamie away from her Sunday afternoon. And she didn't break down and beg us to stay or anything. She stood on the steps and watched us leave. And she calls nearly every day, just to talk. To tell us how much she loves us."

Brooke lifted a hand to her lips, blinking as tears gathered in her eyes. Quinn sighed.

"We wanted to tell everyone, but we … we didn't want to overwhelm Lydia. And we didn't want to give out any false hope, just in case. But I think everything's okay now, Brooke."

Brooke shook her head, letting out a shaky sigh. Quinn looked down at the table, letting out a sigh of her own before she spoke.

"She's been so conflicted about Jude."

Brooke looked up, and Quinn's eyes went soft.

"She wanted to tell him that she's better. Much better than she was even at Christmas when she called. But she … she didn't want him to come see her."

Brooke blinked, and Quinn shook her head.

"Not—not like that. She wants to see him more than probably any of us, but she didn't want him to see her in that place."

Brooke nodded slowly as realization hit her.

"I understand."   
"She wanted me to talk to him, but we've been so preoccupied lately."  
"So has Jude. He's doing some kind of summer camp thing that his therapist recommended him for. And he and Davis have been, oddly enough, practicing basketball like every day."  
"Jude?"

Brooke let out a laugh, nodding her head.

"Yeah. And he's pretty good, surprisingly."   
"All this time, we thought Davis was the athlete…"  
"And I'm kind of thinking they might both be playing on the team this year."

Quinn let out a quiet laugh.

"Wow. I can't believe they'll be seniors."

Brooke looked over at Quinn, who just smiled.

"Lydia's been, and I quote, 'voracious' with her schoolwork lately. They brought in a tutor or a teacher or something for her. She's all caught up, ready to be a senior at Tree Hill High."  
"Oh, good."

Quinn nodded at Brooke's sigh of relief. Brooke blinked a few times, then lifted her head.

"So… She's coming home for good?"

Quinn nodded.

"Saturday night, she'll be back in the pink room."

Brooke nodded slowly, and Quinn sighed.

"I know. Clay and I had a long talk about it. We thought of switching Lyd and Riley, but … You know how attached she is to that room."  
"It's the only thing Nathan did for her that she can cling to."

Quinn nodded.

"And changing what's familiar at this point in the game would probably do way more harm than good. We talked with her doctor, and she's talked with Lydia. Everyone seems to be on the same page."

Brooke nodded.

"Do we … a welcome home party is probably a bad idea."

Quinn nodded.

"I thought we could spend Saturday on the road and let her get settled in, and then we can make the rounds Sunday. Which at this point, I guess is just to you and Meg and the boys. If Peyton and her girls are gone and Lucas …"

Brooke nodded.

"Well, that makes me feel special."

Quinn let out a laugh.

"Jamie's so excited to have her home again."  
"Speaking of, how is he?"

Quinn tilted her head to the side, and Brooke gave her a soft smile.

"I ran into him at the cemetery the other day. He was … not doing very well."

Quinn nodded.

"I picked up on that. Clay and I took him with us to Columbia last weekend, didn't tell him anything about it. He and Lydia had a long talk outside the center, and he's doing a lot better now."  
"Good. I was worried about him."  
"I think he just needed to see his sister, to talk with her and see for himself that she's really okay now. And she is."  
"I am so glad."

They both glanced back as a small group of people walked into the café. Brooke smiled, gathering up her cup and spoon.

"Well, it looks like I should get back to work. I'll talk to the boys and Meggie, tell them about our girl. And I guess we'll plan to see you on Sunday sometime."

Quinn nodded, standing up and wrapping Brooke in a quick hug.

"Do you need some help?"

Brooke glanced around, then heard the back door open and close. She smiled and shook her head at Quinn.

"Nope. That'll be my own personal restaurant staff. Thanks though."  
"Bye, Brooke."

Quinn smiled as she stepped through the crowd, slipping sunglasses on her face as she stepped out the door, into the sunlight.

* * *

 

Jude shot the basketball, easily making it into the hoop. His brother let out a groan behind him, and Jude turned to see Davis shaking his head.

"You're such a bastard."

Jude let out a laugh, throwing the ball to Davis, who tried to mimic the shot Jude had just effortlessly made, and failing miserably. Jude threw his hands up in victory.

"And that'd be an 'E.' No offense, Dave, but you suck."

Jude laughed again when Davis shoved his shoulder.

"You've been holding out on me."  
"You've never wanted to play with me. Probably because, subconsciously, you knew you'd get your ass handed to you. Case in point."

Davis groaned again.

"Seriously, you've got to see about being on the team."  
"Davis, I told you—"   
"No, listen. Jeremy Kyle, you know him?"

Jude nodded.

"Apparently his dad got a job in like Texas or something, so he's moving."

Jude made a face and Davis nodded.

"I know. Dick move, pulling the kid out in his senior year. Anyway, with him gone, there's an open spot on the team."  
"Davis—"  
"How cool would it be? You and me, tearing up the court. They could call us the Fabulous Baker Boys."  
"Jesus, Dave. Do you sit up at night and think this shit up?"

Davis shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't act like it doesn't appeal to you."

Jude scratched at his chest.

"It does sound all right."  
"'All right?' You're killing me, Smalls."

Jude let out a laugh.

"Okay, the 'Fabulous Baker Boys' does have a nice ring to it."   
"Damn right it does!"

Jude shook his head, a smile on his face.

"Okay. I'll go with you to your next practice, see what I have to do."

Davis threw his hands up in the air, letting out a laugh.

"Senior year is going to kick ass, man!"

Jude shook his head, jumping back as he shot the ball again. Davis just stared as it sailed through the air, slipping through the hoop effortlessly.

"Nothing but net, baby."

Davis shook his head, and Jude smiled as they walked into the house. Jude let out a yawn, and Meg wrinkled her nose from her place on the living room sofa.

"You stink."   
"That's the scent of basketball stars, Megan."   
"Basketball smells horrible, then."

The boys let out a laugh, and Jude motioned towards the stairs.

"I'll take the upstairs shower, you take Mom's."  
"Don't use all the hot water."  
"Nah, I'm hot enough as it is."

Davis nodded, starting for his mother's bedroom, then stopping.

"Hey, Meg?"

She leaned forward from the couch, meeting Davis' eyes.

"Where's Mom?"

Meg smiled.

"Owen stopped by when you were all at the café earlier. He had a bunch of roses and said he was taking Mama somewhere special."

Jude laid a hand over his heart, turning to face Davis, who made a face.

"Ew."

Meg let out a laugh, and the boys joined in before they hurried off to their showers.

* * *

 

Late that night, Brooke tiptoed into the house. Owen was right behind her, coming to a stop and smiling when he saw Meg and Davis curled up together on the couch. Brooke smiled when she saw them.

"They can't hang."

Owen laughed to himself.

"I'm sorry I kept you out so late."

Brooke waved a hand at him, then stepped up to grip his jacket.

"It was worth it."

Owen smiled as he leaned down, fitting his mouth to Brooke's for far too short of a kiss. She stepped away from him and fluffed up her hair. Owen stepped around the couch, bending and extricating Meg from her place against Davis' chest. He lifted her in his arms, holding her against his chest. She snuggled up to him, letting out a sigh as something in his heart twitched. Owen swallowed and Brooke smiled as she watched him. She leaned forward, brushing her fingers through Davis' hair.

"Hey, bud. Wake up."

Blue eyes slowly blinked open, smiling when he saw his mother. The smile slid from his face as he looked down and Brooke patted his hand.

"Owen's got her."

Davis let out a breath of relief, nodding as he leaned back against the pillows. Brooke smiled, patting his leg.

"Come on, bud. Go get in bed."

Davis nodded, yawning widely.

"Have a good time?"

Brooke smiled and nodded, stepping back as Davis stood up. He yawned again as he stretched, and Brooke laid a hand against his back. Davis nodded, turning to walk up the stairs. He stopped at the bottom, turning back to look at Brooke.

"You know … We're all adults here."

Brooke raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Meg, cuddled up in Owen's arms. Davis gave her a smile when Brooke met his eyes again.

"She's very mature for her age."  
"What are you getting at?"

Davis shrugged his shoulders.

"Just saying, if you wanted to have an overnight guest…"  
"Davis Baker!"

He laughed quietly, leaning to whisper to his mother.

"Seriously, Mom. We're mature kids who like him and want you to be happy. If you want him to stay, we'll be fine with it."   
"Davis, I—"   
"Ooh, maybe he can make pancakes in the morning. He did that at the café once."

Brooke closed her eyes and Davis smiled, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

"Think about it. I love you."  
"Goodnight, son."   
"Night, Mom. Night, Owen."   
"Night, Davis."

He jogged up the stairs, shutting the door behind him as he walked into his bedroom. Owen carried Meg to her room, easily laying her in her bed, covering her up. He smiled as he watched her reach out and grasp a ratty-looking teddy bear, sighing as she held it close to her. He brushed her dark hair from her forehead, leaning down and pressing a feather-light kiss just above her eyebrow. He stood up, watching as Brooke flipped a nightlight on. He smiled, walking behind her to the hall.

They walked down a little bit, and Brooke pushed open a door that was already ajar. Jude lay in his bed on his back, a book open and resting on his chest. Owen chuckled to himself, and Brooke shook her head as she walked into the room. She flipped off his overhead light, gathering the book up, pulling the bookmark from his loose grip. She set the bookmark in the book, laying it on his nightstand. She leaned over and kissed his forehead, and he shifted in the bed, pulling the covers closer around him, but never waking up. Brooke shut off his lamp and walked to the door, glancing back one last time until she heard the deep, even sounds of his breathing. She pulled his door to, and took Owen's hand. They quietly walked down the stairs, stopping in the kitchen. Owen smiled as he pushed his hands into his pockets.

"You've got some great kids, Brooke Davis."

She smiled.

"Yeah, I do, don't I?"

Owen laughed to himself, then leaned forward, laying his hand against her cheek as he kissed her softly.

"Well, it's late. You should get some sleep."

He turned to leave, and when his hand was on the doorknob, her soft voice rang out.

"Owen?"

He glanced over his shoulder, and she took in a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh. He walked back over to her, standing in front of her, looking down as she looked up at him. He'd always loved how tiny she was. Big brown eyes blinked up at him before her voice sounded again.

"I don't do this. I have never done this. No one has ever … Not with my kids."   
"Brooke."

She blinked slowly, reaching out her hands to rest them against his wide chest.

"Stay."

A smile crossed his face, and he licked his lips.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Owen smiled again, leaning down to press his lips to hers. She kissed him back, going up on her tiptoes as his hands slid into her hair. After a moment, she pulled back, brushing her nose against his, and he smiled. She reached down and took his hand, leading him to her bedroom.

* * *

 

Jamie hung his head, letting out a breath.

"I don't care if I have to follow along in my car behind you. I am not missing out on this."  
"It is literally a day in the car. We are going to get her, then bring her right back here."

Jamie let out a laugh, because he still didn't understand how Clay wasn't getting it.

"I don't care, Clay! She is coming home, and I will be damned if I sit here and wait."  
"Jamie, all it's going to be is a ride in the car."  
"I. Do. Not. Care."

Quinn let out a sigh from her place at the bar, picking up a cookie that Riley had made and taking a bite of it. She made a face and jumped off her chair, rushing to the trashcan and spitting out the bite she'd just taken. Clay pursed his lips as he nodded, pointing to her.

"And that answers my question about the cookies."

Quinn shivered as she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Do not eat the cookies. Blech."

Jamie let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. Quinn walked over to Clay, going up on her toes and pressing her lips to his. Jamie glanced down at the floor, a soft smile on his face. Quinn sat back on her heels, smiling up at her husband as she lifted a hand to rest against his cheek.

"We'll make it a family affair."  
"Q."   
"You know Riley's not going to stay here by herself. And remember how happy she was to see Jamie last weekend?"  
"I don't want to overload her, Quinn."   
"We can't keep her in a bubble, honey. We are her family."

Clay hung his head, letting out a breath. Quinn gently rubbed her hand over his chest, until Clay reached up and covered her hand with his own. He looked down, directly into blue eyes, letting out a quiet sigh.

"I can't lose her like that again, Q."  
"We've got a second chance, baby. Let's take it and make the most of every second."

Clay sighed again, pushing a hand through his rapidly-graying hair.

"Fine. But she sits where she wants in the car and no bitching."

Jamie held up a hand and nodded, while Quinn rolled her eyes. Clay nodded once more, shaking his head as he turned and left the room.

* * *

 

Riley surprised her parents by asking to stay home while they went to get Lydia and bring her home. Quinn was suspicious, but Riley promised it would all be worth it. Brooke and Meg were coming over to spend the night, so Riley wouldn't be completely alone, since Clay and Quinn and Jamie would be leaving shortly before the sun came up.

Bringing Lydia home was less of a hassle than checking out of a hotel usually is.The doctor met them at the front desk, giving them a few sheets of paper, detailing what medications Lydia was taking, the reasons that medication was chosen, the dosage she was on, and possible side effects. Quinn blinked at the papers, but Clay's hand on her arm brought her out of the worry she'd started to slip into.

The doctor then gave them another card, of a therapist near Tree Hill that Lydia had already met with a few times and enjoyed talking to. They'd set up an appointment schedule for three times a week for a few months, with Dr. Chambers confident the schedule would be changed after a short, almost "trial" period. Clay and Quinn were overwhelmed by the information, but Jamie was the one who asked the questions.

Why was Lydia taking the medication she was?   
Who was this therapist?   
How often had Lydia met with him?   
Was three times a week too much to meet with him?   
Or was it not enough?

Dr. Chambers just smiled, answering Jamie's questions with ease. He nodded his approval when she gave him her answers, until they got to the question on who the new therapist was. Clay's head shot up from the paper he'd been reading over Quinn's shoulder, and she slowly lifted her gaze to the doctor's. Clay shook his head.

"I'm sorry. What did you just say?"

Dr. Chambers blinked at him.

"The new therapist Lydia has met with? His name is Dr. Alvarez. He's a very good—"  
"No, I … I know he is."

Dr. Chambers tilted her head to the side, and Jamie glanced over. Clay swallowed, dragging his fingers down the papers Quinn was still holding, until she reached over and laced her fingers through his. Clay gave her the smallest smile, and Quinn turned to the doctor with a sheen of tears in her eyes.

"This won't be our first time with Dr. Alvarez. He, uh … He put our family together a long time ago."

Dr. Chambers nodded slowly, and Clay reached over to tug Quinn close to him, closing his eyes as he kissed her temple. Jamie glanced down, staring at the floor, until the doctor cleared her throat.

"Well. Should we see if she's ready to go?"

* * *

 

Lydia was sitting on the bed in her room, looking from the plain white walls out the window to the bushes of flowers. She smiled when she caught sight of a butterfly, then looked to the door. She took in a breath as a smile crossed her face, and she jumped up to run into her brother's arms. Jamie laughed to himself as he held her, running his hands up and down her back.

"Hey, little sister."

Lydia squeezed him once, and Jamie laughed again before she stepped out of his arms. She lifted a hand to brush a chocolate-colored curl away from her face and Jamie looked down into smiling navy blue eyes. He couldn't help but smile back.

"What?"  
"I get to go home today."

Jamie nodded, reaching up to touch her hair again.

"Yes, you do. What did you do to your hair?"

Lydia rolled her eyes.

"I curled it, you goofball."

Jamie let out a laugh.

"I know that."   
"Then why did you ask?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"It's pretty, is all."  
"Thank you."  
"It, uh …"

Lydia glanced back, and he cleared his throat.

"Mom used to fix her hair like that sometimes."

Lydia blinked, before a soft smile came over her face.

"Really?"

Jamie nodded, and Lydia lifted a hand to gently touch her hair.

"You're pretty just like she was. Big eyes, soft hair. You—you got her lips, and when you smile without showing your teeth, Christ, it's like I'm looking right at her again."

Jamie glanced down, shaking his head, pushing his hands into his pockets and walking over to the window. Lydia cleared her throat quietly, walking closer to him. She stood beside him at the window, looking out over the bushes of flowers, up at the puffy white clouds.

"I'm a lot like her, you know? I mean, I've seen the pictures. I know I look like her. But … personality-wise, I'm like her, too."

Jamie closed his eyes, and Lydia let out a shaky sigh.

"I never meant to hurt you. Not—not like this. I thought I didn't … I mean, I—"

She let out a sigh, shaking her head.

"It's hard to put into words now. I was just … so sad, all the time. It's like there was this dark cloud over me and I couldn't get out from under it, no matter what I did. I couldn't see the sun, and I never thought I'd ever be able to see it again. And I … I never thought about the way my actions could affect anyone else."

She lifted a hand, touching her fingers to the cool glass of the window.

"I was incredibly selfish, if you really think about it. So caught up in my thoughts and how I was feeling, and it never occurred to me to think about anyone else."

She looked over then, saw the way her brother's jaw was clenched as he stared out the window.

"I can't promise that I won't ever be sad again. And I can't promise that we won't ever be back here."

Jamie's eyes opened at that, wide and scared, and Lydia laid a hand on his arm, causing him to turn and meet her gaze.

"But I can promise you that I'm going to do my damnedest not to let it happen again."

He saw the determination in the dark blue, even though they were filling with tears. He heard the sharp edge to her voice, and he knew, deep down inside, that she was telling the truth.

"I know the signs now, Jamie. I know how I'm supposed to feel, and I know that if I start to feel that darkness again, that it's okay to ask for help."

He reached over and grabbed both of her arms, just above her elbows, and she stared up at him. Again, just like their mom, she was so tiny.

"I can't lose you, Lyd. You are all I have."  
"Jamie—"   
"No, I'm serious. There is nothing else on this earth that ties me to my parents except for you. You're the only thing they've ever given me that I can hold onto. I cannot lose you."

Tears slid down her cheeks, but she smiled, one of those closed-mouth Haley smiles, and Jamie felt his heart clench. Lydia shook her head, speaking softly.

"You're not going to lose me, James. I'm here now."

He couldn't hold back the sob as he took her in his arms. She closed her eyes as she set her chin on his shoulder, as his arms tightened around her. He kissed her hair, and she pushed her fingers through the dark hair at the nape of his neck. When he could speak again, Jamie took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"I love you, little sister."

She smiled, leaning her head against his for a moment.

"I love you too, big brother. Always."

Jamie swallowed, smiling widely.

"And forever."

* * *

 

Quinn was turned around in her seat, watching Lydia as she stared out the window. One of her hands was constantly pressed to the glass, and her blue eyes just took everything in. Jamie was sitting beside her in the backseat, watching her, and Clay continually glanced in the rearview mirror. Clay hit a bump in the road, and Lydia bounced in her seat, fingers sliding up the glass before they slid back down, and she let out a quiet giggle. She took in a breath and let it out, speaking to the window.

"I'm not going to disappear, you know. You don't have to keep staring at me."

She turned from the window, smiling over at Jamie, who smiled back sheepishly and glanced at his feet. Lydia looked at Quinn then, before flicking her eyes to the rearview and meeting Clay's gaze. Quinn smiled, and Clay let out a quiet laugh.

"Can't help it, Little Scott. We've missed you."

Lydia laughed to herself.

"I missed you guys, too."

Jamie met Quinn's eyes, and she let out a sigh. Lydia glanced over her shoulder at them, then spoke softly.

"What?"

Quinn sighed again.

"There's some things we need to talk about. Some things that happened while you were gone."

Lydia blinked.

"Okay? What kind of things?"

Quinn met Jamie's eyes again, and he sighed.

"Well, it's been a hell of a year, Lyd."   
"I know."

She looked down at her hands in her lap, and Jamie reached over, taking one in his hand.

"In a nutshell, there won't be many people to welcome you home."   
"Well, that's okay."

Jamie nodded, glancing to Quinn again, who nodded to him.

"I'm just going to say some stuff, and you just listen, okay? Aunt Quinn can explain when I'm done."

Lydia's eyes went big, but she nodded slowly.

"Uncle Lucas has had a really hard time. And he, uh … He and Aunt Peyton have separated."

Lydia's mouth fell open, and Jamie went on.

"We actually aren't really sure where he is right now, but he's not in Tree Hill. Aunt Peyton and Sawyer and Ellie have gone on a trip with Karen."  
"Sawyer's grandma, Karen?"

Jamie nodded.

"They'll be coming home before school starts in the fall."

Lydia nodded slowly, and Jamie went on.

"Sawyer … Um …"

Quinn spoke up then.

"Sawyer had some personal … stuff happen. Stuff that you should hear from her, and not us."  
"Oh."

Quinn nodded, lifting a hand to push through her hair.

"Sawyer and Logan actually became … really close. And when she left, he—he did, too."  
"Logan's gone?"

Quinn looked down as she nodded. Clay spoke up then, forcing himself to smile.

"He's in Arizona. The Cardinals are talking about starting him in the pre-season."

Lydia couldn't help the small smile that crossed her lips.

"So he's playing for the Cardinals?"

Clay nodded, flipping the turn signal on and taking an exit. Lydia nodded, looking back down at her hands.

"What about Aunt Brooke?"

Jamie smiled.

"She's doing good. Really good, actually. Owen's around all the time. Meg's glued to her sewing machine."  
"And she said Jude might be on the basketball team with Davis this year."

Lydia lifted her head.

"Really?"

Quinn nodded as she smiled.

"Yeah, they've grown even closer, if you can believe it."

Lydia nodded, looking to Jamie before she looked out the window again. Quinn sat up in her seat, and Jamie reached over, gently touching Lydia's shoulder.

"Lyd?"

Her shoulders shook as she leaned forward. She turned to look at Jamie and Clay saw her face in the rearview mirror. He pulled the car over, pressing the button that turned the flashers on and jumping out of his seat, walking back and pulling open Lydia's door. He touched her shoulder and she turned to him, grabbing hold of his arms and sobbing out loud.

"Little Scott, hey."  
"It's my—my fault."   
"No, hey. Lydia."   
"Everything's so—so messed up, and—and it's be—because of me."

Clay let out a breath and she sobbed again, shaking her head. He leaned forward, holding her as best he could with her still buckled in. Jamie was holding Quinn's hand, not even realizing that his entire body was shaking. Quinn kept a hand going through his hair, eyes locked on Lydia and Clay.

"Listen to me, all right? You are not to blame for this. You were sick. You needed help. Anything else that may have happened after you left was not your fault."  
"It happened be—because of me."  
"Maybe that's true."

Lydia's eyes went wide, and she leaned back to look at him. Clay had a half-smile on his face, and he lifted a hand to tug at one of her curls.

"But it wasn't your fault. You didn't choose for Lucas to leave. He made the choice on his own. Sawyer's stuff was her stuff, not yours. Logan chose to leave. But you? You chose to come back home."

Clay smiled, moving his hand to cup her cheek.

"Maybe the stuff happened because of you. But you are not to blame for it."

Lydia nodded, sniffling.

"I still feel like I'm to blame."   
"I know. That's human, though."

Lydia sniffled again, then brought her eyes to his.

"Is it going to be okay?"

Clay moved his thumb to catch the tears falling from her eye.

"Yeah, babe. It might take a while to get there, but it's going to be okay again."

Lydia nodded, looking down as she took a shaky breath, then nodding again. She looked up and met Clay's eyes, giving him a soft smile.

"Thanks, Uncle Clay."  
"Don't mention it. I love you, okay?"

Lydia sniffled and nodded.

"I love you, too."

Clay leaned over and kissed her forehead, then stood up.

"You better now?"

Lydia nodded, and Clay returned the gesture before he walked around and got back in the driver's seat. Quinn leaned over and kissed his cheek, and Clay watched in the rearview as Jamie unbuckled his seatbelt, sliding over to sit in the middle of the seat, wrapping his arm around Lydia until she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

* * *

 

Jamie blinked as he came back to consciousness, closing his eyes and yawning widely. He glanced over, and Quinn smiled at him.

"We're home."

Jamie nodded, yawning again, then glancing down. Lydia was asleep against him, her head on his shoulder. He smiled to himself, lifting a hand to pat her hair. He looked over and saw Quinn smiling at them, and he motioned towards his sister.

"She hasn't fallen asleep on me since she was like, what, nine? Ten, maybe?"

Quinn smiled, and Jamie shook his head. He moved to blow softly on Lydia's face, smiling when her nose scrunched up and she moved her head. He did it again, and she lifted a hand to rub at her nose, slowly blinking her eyes open. Jamie let out a quiet laugh, and she sat up, yawning and stretching her arms.

"We're home, little sister."

Lydia turned to look out the window, eyes widening. She unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door, sliding out of the seat and landing on the ground. Clay walked around from the back of the car, Lydia's bag slung over his shoulder.

"Oh, before we go in, there will be some cookies on the counter. Steer clear, trust me."

Lydia glanced back, and Jamie and Quinn both nodded. Lydia let out a quiet laugh, but nodded, watching as Clay walked into the house, followed by Quinn. Jamie stopped on the front stairs, turning back and looking at his sister.

"Lyd?"

She met his eyes, and he motioned with his head.

"You coming?"

Lydia smiled, nodding, taking her time as she walked up the steps and into the house. She walked into the living room, letting out a laugh as she saw Riley's art on display in the "Welcome Home, Lydia" banner. Pale pink and gold balloons were tied to the banner, and an assortment of desserts was set up in the kitchen. Lydia walked into the kitchen, smiling when she saw Riley, who ran forward, making Lydia laugh when she threw her arms around her.

"Oh, I missed you, Riles! Thank you for this."   
"I missed you, too. And I'm glad you're home."   
"Me, too."

Lydia smiled as she leaned back and ruffled Riley's sandy-blonde hair. Riley took her hand and pulled her closer to the bar, pointing out the different desserts they had, all happily catered by Brooke, Meg, and Karen's Café. They all sat around and talked, eating until they were far too full, and Lydia excused herself to go and unpack the few things Clay and Quinn had brought to her.

She walked into her bedroom, a sense of relief filling her when she saw that nothing had changed. The walls were still an almost-obnoxious hot pink, and Lydia couldn't help but smile. She walked around the room and touched nearly every piece of furniture, just because she could. She smiled when she saw a cell phone on her bedside table, with a personalized case of a picture Quinn had taken of a field of wildflowers. The photo had always been one of Lydia's favorites. She slid her finger across the screen, waking the phone up and unlocking it. She sat on her bed and looked through her contact list, stopping at the very first name. She took in a breath, then touched the name, lifting the phone to her ear.

_"Hello?"_   
"Hey, Aunt Brooke."

The call went quiet for a moment, until Brooke's shaky voice sounded.

_"Lydia?"_  
"It's me."

Brooke let out a watery laugh.

_"Oh, sweetheart. It's so good to hear your voice!"_   
"It's good to hear you too, Aunt Brooke. I—I missed you."

Brooke sniffled, and Lydia closed her eyes.

"Please don't cry."  
_"Oh, honey. I'm just so happy to hear from you. You sound … happy."_   
"I am happy. I'm happy to be home."  
_"Oh, I know you are."_

Lydia bit her tongue, glancing at the clock beside her bed.

"Is, uh … Are you busy at the café?"

She could almost hear the smile in Brooke's voice.

_"No, not right now. Davis and Jude are doing something at school, something with the basketball team or something? But they're coming in tonight."_

Lydia smiled, nodding before she remembered that Brooke couldn't see her.

"Oh. Well, I … I think Aunt Quinn said we were going to meet up with you tomorrow?"  
_"Yes, if you want to come to the cafe, you can, or the store, or we can come to you. Doesn't matter._ "

Lydia smiled again.

"I can't wait to see you."  
_"Oh, girl. You can just expect hugs for days, all right?"_

Lydia laughed quietly, nodding her head.

"Sounds great. I love you, Aunt Brooke."  
_"I love you too, sweet girl. See you soon."_

Lydia ended the call, falling back on her bed and letting out a sigh. She sat up again when she heard a throat being cleared at her door, and she smiled.

"I see you found our present."

Lydia held up the phone and nodded. Quinn just smiled as she walked into the room.

"I called Aunt Brooke."  
"Well, I know she was happy to hear from you."

Lydia nodded, moving to set the phone back on the bedside table, sitting Indian-style on her bed. Quinn sat beside her.

"That phone does not have free reign. If Clay and I think we need to look through it, we will. No passcode that we don't know. We're not just going to go look through your messages, but …"

Lydia nodded.

"I understand. That's fair."

Quinn nodded.

"Now. Let's talk about what's bothering you."

Lydia let out a quiet laugh.

"That obvious?"   
"Why don't you just call him, honey?"

Lydia let out a long breath.

"I don't know. What if he doesn't want to talk to me? What if he's upset because I didn't let him come visit me?"   
"I highly doubt that will be the case."

Quinn stood up, opening Lydia's bag and walking into her closet. She came out with a clothes basket, and began dropping clothes into it.

"I was going to do that. You don't have to."

Quinn smiled softly.

"I know. But I haven't been able to wash your clothes in a year. Humor me."

Lydia nodded slowly, looking down at her hands.

"I'm sorry."   
"Don't apologize."

Lydia nodded again, and Quinn bent to kiss the top of her head.

"Are you hungry?"

Lydia lifted her head, and a soft smile crossed her face.

"Can we order pizza?"

Quinn snorted.

"Why don't you go ask your uncle that? Then let me know what he says."

Lydia nodded, and Quinn followed her out of the room, carrying the clothes basket. She stopped on the stairs when she heard the whoop, rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she walked into the laundry room. Clay came dancing in, just like she knew he would, laughing as he took her into his arms.

"Pizza night."

Quinn rolled her eyes again, and Clay moved to kiss her cheek.

"You remember when she wouldn't eat anything? And now she's asking for pizza. Best day ever, baby."

Quinn laughed, taking his face in her hands and kissing him.

"Don't make any plans for after supper."

Clay raised an eyebrow, and Quinn smiled.

"I have a feeling we'll be driving over to the café for a little while."

Clay nodded slowly, a smile crossing his face when realization came over him. Quinn smiled to herself as she turned back, loading the washing machine.

* * *

 

When everyone was stuffed full of pizza, Quinn found Lydia standing in the kitchen, looking out at the backyard as the sun set. Lydia glanced back and smiled, then turned her attention back out the French doors.

"What are you looking at, pretty girl?"

Lydia smiled, letting her fingertips dance across the window pane.

"The hammock's gone."

Quinn went still for a moment, then nodded.

"Yeah, Clay, uh … Clay took it down a few months ago."

Lydia nodded slowly, swallowing. After a moment, she glanced back, to see Quinn smiling softly at her.

"You should talk to him. See if he'll put it back up."

Lydia nodded, a soft smile coming over her face.

"That can wait until tomorrow, though. You ready?"

Lydia's eyes narrowed.

"For what?"  
"We've got somewhere to be."

* * *

 

Lydia blinked as she stared up at the lights of the café. Quinn sat beside her in the car, looking up at the sign, then back to Lydia.

"You ready?"   
"He's here, isn't he?"   
"I'm not 100% sure, but I think so. I didn't call Brooke."

Quinn let out a sigh.

"Maybe this was a bad idea. I thought we might could surprise everyone. We can just go back home."

Quinn went to put the key back in the ignition and Lydia reached over and stopped her.

"No, we … we should go in. We came all this way."

Quinn nodded, and Lydia took a deep breath, then opened her door. Quinn walked around the car and slid her arm through Lydia's as they walked into the café, listening to the bell over the door jingle.

"I'm sorry, we're closed! I haven't gotten to lock the door yet."

Quinn and Lydia exchanged a smile, and Quinn reached up, jingling the bell again, insistently. Brooke's voice sounded again, getting louder as she was obviously walking to the front.

"Look, I'm sorry, but we're already …"

Her dark eyes widened as she saw who was standing at the door, and a hand lifted to her heart.

"Lydia?"  
"Hi, Aunt Brooke."

Brooke let out a squeal, hurrying forward to wrap Lydia in her arms. Lydia closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath as Brooke held her close. The familiar "mom" smell that permeated the air around Brooke set Lydia's mind at ease, and she rested her head against Brooke's shoulder. Brooke sniffled, drying her tears as best she could as she held her.

"I have missed you so, so much."   
"I missed you too, Aunt Brooke."  
"I'm so glad to see you."

Lydia smiled, and Brooke finally pulled back, lifting her hands to touch Lydia's hair, then to cup her face.

"You're feeling okay?"

Lydia smiled again, nodding her head. Brooke nodded back at her, kissing her forehead before resting her own against Lydia's. Lydia smiled, and Brooke spoke softly.

"I sent Meg home with Davis a little while ago, but Jude should be coming back from a quick grocery run in just a few minutes."

Lydia leaned back, eyes wide, and Brooke smiled softly, reaching to run her fingers through Lydia's curls.

"He'll be so happy to see you. I …"

Brooke sighed.

"I didn't get to tell him that you were coming home."  
"He doesn't know?"

Brooke shook her head.

"These last couple of weeks have been crazy busy. I've barely seen the boys except for when they've already gone to bed."   
"What if he's upset that he didn't know? That he didn't get to come see me or something?"   
"Honey."

Brooke smiled, moving to cup Lydia's face in her hands again.

"I bet he doesn't even think about that."

Lydia let out a breath, and Brooke glanced at Quinn as they heard the car pull up. Lydia's eyes were wide.

"Oh, god."   
"We can still go. Slip out the back and he'll never know. Brooke can tell him tonight and you can see him tomorrow."

Lydia nodded as Quinn reached over and took her hand. Then, she shook her head.

"No, I … I want to see him. Now."

Brooke smiled.

"Okay then. Quinn and I will be in the back if you need anything, okay?"

Lydia nodded, and Brooke and Quinn slipped away just as the bell over the door rang.

"Mom, how many times do I have to tell you, lock the door when you're here by yourself."

Jude shook his head, locking the door before turning and walking into the café. He came to a hard stop, blinking his dark eyes. He somehow had the clarity of mind to set the grocery bags he carried on a table, then took a step forward, stopping when he was afraid his legs might give out. He swallowed, speaking softly.

"Ly—Lydia?"

The angel that stood before him smiled, tears in her navy blue eyes. She was still thin, but much healthier-looking than she'd been the last time he'd seen her. Her hair was just a bit shorter, curling around her beautiful face, the skin that seemed to glow, even in the dim lighting of the café. One tear slid down her perfect cheek, before her quiet voice rang out.

"Hey Jude."


	25. Overjoyed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Overjoyed," by Matchbox Twenty

Jude just stood in the middle of the café, rooted to the floor, barely able to breathe. He swallowed, throat as dry as the desert, and managed to croak out a few words.

“Say that again.”

She smiled, the angel that stood before him, another tear slipping down her cheek. She sniffled, speaking softly, repeating the phrase he couldn’t stand to hear for an entire year. At least, not from any voice that wasn’t hers.

“Hey Jude.”

His brain shut off then, or maybe his limbs just took over. He rushed forward, taking her in his arms, both of them gasping when they touched. Lydia let out a sob as she dug her fingers into his back, and Jude closed his eyes, holding her so tightly that he wasn’t sure she could breathe. She turned her head at the same time that he did, and Jude bent a little, pressing his forehead to hers. He let out a quiet laugh.

“Tell me this isn’t a dream.”

Lydia gave a watery laugh, reaching a shaky hand up and pressing it against his cheek. Her sweet voice was quiet, and Jude smiled through the tears in his eyes when he heard her.

“It’s not a dream. I’m really here.”

He let out a laugh, pulling back just a bit. Lydia blinked her eyes open, looking up at him, and Jude shook his head, leaning down and laying his lips on hers. Lydia’s hand came up again, touching his face, and when he broke the kiss, resting his forehead on hers again, the words she whispered nearly brought him to his knees.

“I love you.”

He tightened his hold on her, pulling her even closer, and she gasped before she tightened her hold on him, as well. Jude turned his head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo before he spoke again.

“One more time.”

Lydia smiled, leaning back, waiting until he blinked his eyes open. She moved her arms around his neck, smiling wider when his hands slid over her hips, pulling her just a bit closer.

“I love you, Jude Baker. I have for so long.”

Jude let out a laugh, bending down to kiss her again, tightening his hold on her hips, making her laugh as he lifted her up, twirling her around slowly, gently, before he put her back on the ground.

“God, Lydia. I’m so glad to see you.”

She didn’t move away from him, just stayed in the circle of his arms, hands on his chest as she smiled up at him.

“I missed you so much.”

Jude bent and kissed her lips again.

“Tell me you’re here for good. That you’ve come back to me.”

Lydia smiled, nodding her head, and Jude laughed, pulling her back into his arms and holding her close. He had one arm around the upper part of her back, just under her shoulders, and his other hand holding the back of her head. She had her eyes closed, ear pressed to his heart.

“I can’t believe you’re here.”  
“Believe it.”

Jude let out a quiet laugh, then took hold of her hips again, lifting her up and walking back to the counter, sitting her on it where they could talk face-to-face. She smiled at him, moving a hand to brush her fingers through his hair.

“That’s pretty hot.”

Jude let out a laugh, and Lydia smiled widely. He lifted a hand and she laced her fingers through his. Jude shook his head.

“You’re smiling. You don’t even know how much I missed that sight.”

Lydia looked down, at their joined hands.

“I do know. And … Jude, I want to—“  
“Shh.”

He smiled, moving to cup her face in his hands.

“We’ll have all the time in the world to talk about that.”

Lydia blinked at him, then nodded, and Jude stepped forward again, kissing her softly and gently. He stepped forward and she put her face in his chest, wrapping her arms around him. Jude let out a quiet laugh, closing his eyes at the sudden push of tears behind his eyelids. He sniffled, bending to put his face in her hair.

“Jude?”

He shook his head, and she let her hand drift up, pushing through his hair. Her other hand came to rest on his cheek, gently moving his face to press his cheek against hers. He took in a shaky breath, and she moved her head, tenderly pressing her lips to his cheek, closing her eyes as his arms came around her, pulling her as close as they could possibly get.

“Jude.”

He sniffled, shaking his head, and she smiled, keeping her eyes closed.

“I love you.”

He let out a laugh, a quiet, wet sound.

“I love you, too.”

* * *

 

Jude finally lifted his head, letting out a sigh and lifting a hand to wipe his eyes. He sniffled and looked at Lydia, who smiled at him and lifted her hand, using her thumb to wipe a tear from his cheek. He gave her a half-smile, leaning closer.

“I wish I could just put you in my car and go.”

Lydia smiled at him, tilting her head to the side.

“Where would we go?”

Jude shrugged his shoulders as she swung her legs off the edge of the counter.

“I don’t know. Anywhere we wanted.”

Lydia giggled softly, and Jude leaned forward, kissing her lips softly. He didn’t pull back immediately, but deepened the kiss, letting his hand come up and cup her cheek. Lydia finally pulled back, breathing hard, resting her forehead on his. Jude pressed his lips to hers again, and Lydia murmured against his mouth.

“Your mom’s in the kitchen with Aunt Quinn.”

Jude groaned, and Lydia giggled, laughing out loud when Jude tucked his face to her neck and squeezed her side. Quinn and Brooke walked out of the kitchen to see Lydia writhing on the counter, trying to get away from Jude, who refused to stop tickling her, no matter how much she begged. Lydia squealed, barely able to breathe through her laughter, and Quinn lifted a hand to her mouth, glancing over and seeing tears in Brooke’s eyes as well.

“It’s been so long since I heard her laugh.”

Quinn just nodded, unable to speak around the lump in her throat. Brooke swallowed, letting out a laugh.

“Jude, let the girl breathe!”

He lifted his head to see Brooke standing there and he smiled. Lydia fell back on the counter, breathing hard, shaking her head.

“Please … I’m beg—begging.”

She lifted a hand, pushing her hair out of her face, and Jude reached out, taking her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. He smiled at her, laughing to himself when she lifted her other hand and pushed at his shoulder. He leaned over, kissing her softly, smiling against her mouth when her hand came up to rest against his neck. At the sound of a throat being cleared, Jude pulled back, letting out a sigh. He and Lydia glanced over, and Brooke gave them a wave.

“Standing right here.”

Lydia’s cheeks went red, and Quinn covered her mouth with her hand to hide her smile. Brooke shook her head as Jude helped Lydia sit up, then lifted her off the counter to stand beside him. He smiled when she turned and put her face in his chest, and he laid a hand on her hair.

“Could we, um …”

Lydia lifted her head to look at him, and Jude glanced down at her before looking over to his mother and Quinn.

“Could we go somewhere for a while? I’ll bring her home later.”

Quinn bit her lip, glancing over to Brooke. Brooke subtly shook her head, stepping over to take Lydia from Jude and wrap her in a hug, resting her head on top of soft, chocolate-brown hair. Quinn sighed.

“I don’t know.”

Lydia was smiling softly, looking down at the floor. Quinn looked over to her, tilting her head.

“Lyd?”

Lydia blinked, lifting her eyes to Quinn, who smiled at her.

“What are you thinking?”

Lydia shrugged, cheeks flushing as Brooke took a step back from her.

“Honey?”

Lydia looked up at Brooke, then over to Quinn, and she sighed, lifting a hand and pushing it through her hair.

“I—I didn’t think I … had a say.”

Lydia looked down again, and Quinn closed her eyes. Lydia looked back at Jude, who stepped up and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, her back to his chest. She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath as she leaned back against him. Quinn looked over to Brooke, who gave her a sad look. Quinn fought back tears, then cleared her throat.

“Have her home before midnight.”

Jude grinned, nodding his head.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lydia stepped out of Jude’s arms, going to Quinn and hugging her. Quinn held her tightly, then whispered in her ear.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

Lydia nodded, and Quinn kissed her temple before patting her shoulder. Jude stepped up and took Lydia’s hand, smiling down at her as he led her out of the café, the bell above the door jingling as they walked out. Quinn turned to Brooke, shaking her head. Brooke gave her a sad smile, walking forward to give Quinn a hug. Brooke sighed, shaking her head.

“I know. This is going to take some getting used to. Okay, a lot of getting used to.”

Quinn just shook her head, and Brooke sighed again.

* * *

 

Lydia laid her head back against the seat, smiling softly and keeping her eyes closed as Jude drove them. He had one hand on the wheel, the other laced together with Lydia’s.

“Where are we going?”  
“You just keep your eyes closed and let me drive.”

Lydia laughed quietly, giving his hand a squeeze. He turned up the radio just a bit, and Lydia’s smile grew, and she started to softly sing along. Jude swallowed, blinking hard.

“I missed hearing you sing.”  
“I’ve missed singing.”

She turned her head, opening her eyes to look at Jude.

“Not as much as I missed you, though.”

He glanced over at her, pulling the car to a stop in the middle of the road. Lydia giggled, and he leaned over, kissing her slowly. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead on hers, just for a moment. He couldn’t speak just then, and he sat back, taking a breath before putting the car back in drive. Lydia sat back in her seat, closing her eyes again.

Jude pulled the car to a stop, putting it in park and taking the keys out of the ignition. Lydia turned her head towards him, keeping her eyes closed. He smiled, and she reached out. He laced his fingers with hers and she smiled.

“Can I open my eyes yet?”

Jude glanced out his window, then nodded.

“Yeah, open your eyes.”

Lydia blinked a few times, sitting up to look out her window, then turning to look out Jude’s. She met his eyes and let out a laugh, letting go of his hand to unbuckle her seatbelt, climbing out of the car the same time he did. She ran around the car and took his hand again, leaning against him as they walked towards the swings at the park. She sat down in a swing, and Jude walked behind her, and when she was holding onto the chains, he gave her a gentle push.

They stayed like that for a while, not saying anything while Jude pushed Lydia on the swing. The night was still around them, until Jude’s voice broke through the silence.

“God, I missed you so much.”

Lydia put her feet down suddenly, turning around to see him stumble over to one of the benches, sitting down hard and putting his head in his hands. She was out of the swing before she could think about what she was doing, and she sat beside him, putting an arm around his shoulders and pulling him to her. He rested his head against her stomach and she closed her eyes at the tightness of his grip on her arm, feeling tears come to her eyes at the sound of his choked sob.

“Oh, Jude.”

He shook his head.

“You don’t … You don’t know what it was …”

He lifted his head, tears soaking his cheeks as he shook his head again.

“It was hell without you, Lydia. I couldn’t function. I could barely breathe.”

He shook his head, standing to his feet and putting his hands on his hips. He walked a little ways from the bench, then turned back to look at her.

“It scared me.”  
“What did?”  
“Finding out just how badly I need you.”

She blinked, and he let out a laugh.

“We are seventeen years old, and I cannot imagine my life without you in it. What’s more? I don’t want to.”

He blew out a breath, lifting a hand to rub at his face. He sighed again, then looked over to the bench. Lydia was watching him, and they locked eyes a few seconds before she stood up, slowly walking over to him, looking up at him as he looked down at her.

“It is scary. I know, because I feel the same way.”

She reached out, and he automatically slipped his hands into hers. She shook her head as she stepped closer to him, shivering in the gentle breeze.

“I talked to my shrink. She tried to tell me that we were too young, that we have our whole lives ahead of us, and you know what happened?”

Jude shook his head, and she smiled softly as she stepped closer, looping her arms around his neck. His hands came to her hips, and she smiled, closing her eyes for just a moment before looking up at him.

“I panicked. I tried to think about—“

She shook her head as tears welled up in her eyes. She let out a shaky breath, voice thick with tears when she spoke again.

“I can’t see myself with anyone but you. I don’t want to. And that scares me, but … I don’t care.”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“Maybe I should, but …”

Jude bent down, pressing his lips to hers, smiling into the kiss when her arms tightened around his neck, pulling him even closer. Lydia moved to put her face in Jude’s neck, and he closed his eyes, letting out a sigh.

“I love you, Lydia.”  
“I love you, too.”

* * *

 

Jude pulled up to the house, letting out a sigh. Lydia smiled, squeezing the hand she’d been holding ever since they got back in the car. Jude shut off the engine, sitting back in the seat and letting out another sigh. He turned to look at Lydia, smiling when he caught her looking back at him, and he lifted her hand to his lips.

“I don’t want to let you go.”

She smiled, feeling her cheeks warm.

“I know. I really don’t want to go.”

Jude let out a quiet laugh, leaning forward to push his fingers through her hair, cupping her chin in his palm, resting his forehead against hers. They both closed their eyes, and Jude murmured softly.

“Then don’t.”

Lydia leaned into his touch.

“What happens if I don’t?”

Jude smiled.

“We get away from here. Far, far away. We leave Tree Hill in our dust and—“  
“Never look back?”

Jude nodded, and Lydia smiled.

“We’ll have money to burn, travel all around the globe, and when we get old and wrinkly—“  
“We’ll come back here.”

Lydia moved her head just a bit, pressing her lips to his, murmuring against his mouth.

“Sounds like a perfect plan.”

Jude tightened his hold on her face, bringing his other hand up to cup her cheek, kissing her. Lydia smiled into the kiss, leaning closer to him. They both jumped at the sound of the horn, then fell into laughter when Jude realized his elbow was the cause of the noise. Lydia wiped the tears from her eyes, rubbing her aching chest from laughing so hard.Jude sighed, opening his door and walking around to open hers. He helped her from the car, keeping tight hold on her hand as he walked her to the door. They stopped on the front steps, and Jude reached to take both of Lydia’s hands.

“Listen, if you … if you need anything, just—just call me, okay?”

She gave him a soft smile, letting go of one of his hands to lift hers to lay against his cheek.

“You’re so good, Jude.”

He ignored the twinge in his heart, giving her the smile he knew she wanted. He stepped closer to her, towering over her, looking down as she stared up at him.

“Promise me, Lyd.”  
“I promise.”

Jude nodded, and Lydia went on her tiptoes, looping her arms around his neck and bringing his mouth to hers. Jude settled his hands on her hips.

“Well, well. What do we have here?”

Lydia groaned as she went back to her flat feet, resting her head against Jude’s chest. Clay leaned up against the doorframe, a wide smile on his mouth.

“Mr. Baker. Good to see you again.”

Jude cleared his throat.

“Hey, Clay.”

Clay nodded, still smiling. He glanced at the watch on his wrist, then nodded.

“Just in time. Very good, Baker.”

Jude nodded, and Lydia rolled her eyes. She went up on her tiptoes again, and Jude leaned down to let her whisper in his ear.

“I’m sorry for this. He hasn’t always been so weird.”  
"Yes, he has."

Lydia laughed, and Jude bent to kiss her cheek.

“Goodnight, Lyd.”  
“Goodnight, Jude.”  
“Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

Jude and Lydia both groaned at Clay, who just cackled to himself. He stepped back and held the door open.

“Get in this house, girl. Drive safe, Baker.”  
“Yes, sir.”

* * *

 

Clay stood at the door until Jude had driven away, then shut the door behind him. He stopped when he saw Lydia standing in the hall, arms crossed over her chest and one eyebrow raised.

“What?”

Lydia rolled her eyes, and Clay smiled as he jogged forward, throwing an arm around her.

“Come here, Little Scott. I’ve got a surprise for you.”  
“Oh, boy.”  
“None of that.”

Lydia giggled under his arm, and Clay stopped at the French doors that led to the backyard. Lydia looked out into the darkness, taking in a breath.

“You put the hammock back up?”

Clay nodded, closing his eyes when she wrapped her arms around his waist. Clay coughed, then cleared his throat.

“Look, you’ll get eaten by mosquitos if you go out there tonight—“  
“Please? I just … I missed it so much.”  
“The hammock?”

Lydia swallowed as she nodded, turning back to the doors.

“And outside.”

Clay closed his eyes, dragging a hand down his face.

“All right. But take a blanket and if you get bit, come back in.”

He closed his eyes again when she kissed his cheek, blinking as he watched her run and grab two big blankets from the closet, then run outside, laughing as soon as she kicked her shoes off and ran through the grass.

“Sucker.”

Clay glanced back, smiling when he saw Quinn sitting backwards on a stool at the counter. He let out a laugh.

“Like you would have done a damn thing differently.”

She lifted a shoulder, then smiled as he walked over to her, taking her face in his hands and kissing her deeply. Quinn pulled back, smiling up at him.

“There is … one thing.”

Clay raised an eyebrow, and Quinn bit her bottom lip.

“She’s all by herself out there, and—“  
“You called Baker back here, didn’t you?”

Quinn’s mouth fell open, in a look of shock.

“I would never.”  
“Watch that nose, Pinocchio.”

Quinn shrugged her shoulders.

“Like you weren’t going to do the same damn thing.”

Clay rolled his eyes, and she laughed, taking hold of his shirt and pulling him close, kissing him again. They both stopped when they heard the car pull up, and Clay raised an eyebrow again when Quinn smiled up at him. She leaned even closer, whispering quietly.

“Riley’s asleep, and Jamie’s at the Rivercourt until probably after one or two. With them outside…”  
“We can go upstairs?”

Quinn giggled as she nodded, and Clay grabbed her hand, tugging her off the barstool and dragging her behind him as she laughed all the way up the stairs.

* * *

 

“Room for one more?”

Lydia’s eyes flew open, and a wide smile spread across her face.

“Jude. What are you doing here?”

He grabbed hold of the hammock, stopping it from swinging and leaning down, kissing her lips.

“Quinn called. Said you were out here all by your lonesome.”

Lydia felt a blush cover her face and she nodded. Jude toed his shoes off and, with Lydia’s help, maneuvered his way onto the hammock. She rolled to lay her head on his chest, covering him with the blanket, pulling it up to her chin. She gave a full-body shiver and he lifted an eyebrow at her.

“I’m cold.”  
“Want to go in?”  
“No.”

Jude smiled, nodding his head, lifting a hand to slowly drag his fingers through her hair. Lydia let out a sigh, snuggling closer to him. Jude swallowed, then spoke softly.

“The last time we were out here …”  
“I know.”

Jude nodded slowly, and Lydia sighed.

“It was such a bad time.”  
“I should have told someone then.”  
“Don’t do that, honey.”

Jude let out a laugh, and Lydia propped herself up on an elbow.

“You’re not to blame. Not for anything, Jude.”  
“Lyd, I—“  
“No. Don’t. Please, don’t.”

She moved to where she was draped across his torso, dark blue eyes looking past his eyes and into his soul. She shook her head, speaking softly.

“Nothing is your fault. Nothing, Jude.”  
“Lyd, I—“  
“Please, listen to me.”

He closed his eyes, and she moved again, resting her forehead on his.

“You helped me more than anyone else. I wouldn’t let anyone in. No one but you. And I shouldn’t have done that. We were too young, Jude. Too young to deal with the weight on our shoulders. Me, especially. And I put that weight on you, and—“  
“I don’t regret a second of it. Not until the night I walked away from you.”

Lydia blinked.

“Jude.”  
“I will never, ever forgive myself for that.”

Tears sparkled in his dark eyes, and he lifted a hand to press his fingers against his eyelids. Lydia closed her eyes, then laid down again, draping herself across his torso. She brought both of her legs up, where she was straddling his stomach, arms on either side of his, head tucked just under his chin. Jude squeezed his eyes shut at the memory that slammed into him, at the same time he felt her tears dampen his shirt.

“I love you. And this is something we’re going to have to work through. Blaming and remembering and forgiving.”  
“Lyd—“  
“I don’t know when, but we’ll get past it. And I don’t know how. I don’t know a lot of things, but I do know that I love you. And I know you love me.”  
“I do, baby.”

His arms came around her then, holding her tightly. He felt her start to relax in his hold, little by little, until their breathing was synced, slow and deep. Lydia’s voice was quiet and lazy when she spoke.

“I know we need to … to talk, but … I’m so tired.”

Jude yawned widely.

“Me … me too.”

Lydia nodded, snuggling closer to him, and Jude adjusted his hold on her. He tugged the blanket up a little more, and Lydia wiggled until she had her head on his shoulder. She was still laying on top of him, but neither of them were bothered by it.

“Jude?”  
“Mm-hmm.”  
“I love you.”

He smiled, yawning again.

“I love you too, baby.”

Lydia took in a deep breath, smelling nothing but Jude, and fell asleep with a smile on her face. Jude followed behind her a few seconds later.

* * *

 

“They out?”  
“Yep.”

Quinn turned away from the window, climbing in the bed beside Clay. She sat on her knees, yawning once.

“You called Brooke?”

Quinn nodded, and Clay nodded back at her.

“You got the aloe or the calamine lotion or whatever it is for when they wake up covered in mosquito bites?”

Quinn rolled her eyes, but nodded again. Clay smiled, reaching over and touching Quinn’s soft hair. She smiled, turning her lamp off and laying down, snuggling up to Clay’s side. He ran a finger down her nose, leaning down to kiss her. When he went to turn off his lamp, Quinn caught his arm.

“Does it …”  
“What, babe?”

Quinn pressed her lips together, then smiled.

“Does it seem different to you?”  
“What?”

Quinn shook her head.

“Everything. I know we’ve been talking about how everything’s going back to ‘normal,’ but …”  
“I know what you mean.”  
“You do?”

Clay nodded.

“I don’t think we’ll ever be back to the normal we used to know. But this … this can be our new normal. I mean, we’ve still got a lot of … shit to sort through. But—“  
“It doesn’t seem so overwhelmingly awful anymore.”

Clay nodded again.

“We got our girl back. New and improved version. And it’s not going to be sunshine and flowers all the time. But for now …”  
“Now, let’s enjoy the sunshine.”

Clay smiled, leaning over to kiss his wife again.

“Excellent idea, Mrs. Evans. And let’s plan on doing just that. … Tomorrow.”

Quinn let out a laugh, nodding her head, waiting until Clay was situated in the bed before settling against his side, sharing a satisfied sigh with her husband before they both drifted off to sleep.

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this concludes Part 2 of this saga. Stay tuned, and Part 3 will be up soon! Please leave me a review, if you feel inclined to, and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!


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